by Evans, Mike
Dr. Steward walked forward, staring at the soldier. “Suggestions for him, Jude?”
Jude pushed the other soldiers away, taking the deceased's sidearm from its holster, and sent three shots into his skull. He dropped the gun quickly as the two remaining soldiers aimed at him. He said, “You and I both know he was going to turn ugly, and he was going to do it really fucking quick. There ain’t any reason you all need to be like that. I’ve lost friends, too, because of this—friends I've probably known a hell of a lot longer than you knew him.”
Jude picked the shovel up, knowing the shots to the head would kill the human in him, but that the dead was still on its way. “I need to finish this; if you don’t want to watch, nobody's making you.”
Jude brought the shovel up and, this time, directly down into the skull—once, twice, three times, until he broke through the cranium. The body twitched as he broke the scalp open; the shovel came out covered with brains.
Leslie, staring, said, “You know, it doesn’t seem to matter how many times I see that—each and every one just seems worse. I think I actually prefer having Jude with a chainsaw or axe. It seems more humane, somehow.”
“More humane slicing through their brains with a chainsaw?” Joann said.
“Hey, I can’t help how I feel. I mean, as many of these things as we’ve taken out, you'd think it would be a bit less disturbing, but it isn’t,” Leslie replied.
Jude looked back to Dr. Steward. “You satisfied with the results? I got a boy to get home to. I think we pretty much just figured out how to eradicate these things, don’t you?”
Steward was still staring at the ground, at Jude's handiwork. He finally nodded and said, “Yes. Yes, I think we're probably good to go. We need to go somewhere we can take massive amounts of this. Do you boys think you can replicate it on your own?”
Jude nodded. “Close enough. If you can get me a Humvee with a trailer hitch, we’ll be on our way…oh, and I want our shit back, too. I’ll take my axe over one of those AR’s right now. You boys are gonna run outta bullets. Once those things are blinded, you’d probably do just as well running over them with a truck or tank and squishing their brains out. I don’t know what the answer is, but those rifles probably ain't it. You could use them for taking out their knee caps. Maybe do like we do and blind them, disable them, and smash their fucking heads in, rinse, repeat.”
Steward said, “I'm sure we'll be able to figure out something. Thank you so much; I really do appreciate you helping us. I think we have a chance now. Before, we were just trying to keep it from spreading, with no clue how any of this happened. Joann, you were very insightful, thank you all again.”
Chuck coughed a little, and when he got no reaction, coughed a second time. “Well, God forbid anyone tells ol' Chuck thank you. I figured out the blinding shit, man—that is golden! We wouldn’t be able to do jack shit without that. Throw me a bone, for godsakes!”
Dr. Steward smiled awkwardly and the soldiers walked away, leaving the dead where they lay. Chuck looked to Jude, who said, “Chuck, you and your brain are the best thing in this world. I appreciate you. Now, quit acting like a little bitch, and let’s go.”
Minutes later, they had their gear back and had been given a Humvee with a full tank of gas, along with rifles, shotguns, and enough ammo to fill the rear of the vehicle. Jude walked around, inspecting the truck, thinking how they’d not had anything this fancy when he was wearing fatigues his first time. He saw the trailer hitch and smiled, thinking that, with a few quick stops on the way home, they would have a better than fair chance of making it back alive!
They waved to the soldiers, who, this time, let them through the blockade. They drove to the outskirts of town, slowing when Jude found a feed and supply store. Steward had given each of them a canister for the road, and Chuck gripped his tighter. “What the hell are we doing here? We got plenty of crap to take care of anything we see on the way home, Jude. I thought you were in a hurry to get home?”
Jude said, “Yeah, and when we get home there’s a damn good chance people will be trapped and haven't seen the army's broadcast. I want to make sure that when we get home, we can do some serious good. We're going to decimate these things, and then we're going to make sure everyone has a chance.”
Joann gripped his shoulder. “Right, and what does a feed store have to do with that, stud?”
Jude pointed out his window, smiling as he rolled the Humvee to a stop. The four looked at what he was pointing at and saw a cattle water tank. Charlie whistled and read the sign, “Cattle water tank holds 400 gallons of water.”
Chuck looked over at Jude. “You've got some bad intentions, don’t you?”
“Only for the dead, Chuck. When we make it home, we'll be doing everything we can to make a difference.”
“What about that wonderful little plan we had about getting home, getting Patrick and Maria, and getting the fuck out of Dodge?” Chuck asked.
“We can run, Chuck, or we can stay and take our city back, and then our state. You said you wanted to be a hero, right? Well, this is your claim to fame, then. Coming up with the way to kill them is great, but whoever decimates the dead is going to be the man.”
Chuck said, “I wonder if we can, like, get an exemption from paying taxes…forever?”
Leslie patted his shoulder. “Chuck, I think you're losing focus, here.”
Jude got out, kicking the tires of the water tank's trailer. He motioned for Chuck, who jumped to the driver’s seat, backing the Humvee up to the hitch, and Jude set the trailer down, locking it in place. They drove to the front of the store and went inside, gathering ingredients. Jude wheeled out carts full of each component, and they dumped it all into the water tank, then filled it to the brim with water, attaching a pump to the bottom.
Jude tested the rig, spraying the side of a wall and tweaking the sprayer until it shot a straight line. He set it down, and they started the long drive home.
Chapter 12
Maria and Patrick sat in the woods. Maria had found enough wood to get a small fire going. Their clothes were slowly drying, but were still soaked. Patrick said, “Aunt Maria, what are we going to do? Those things are pretty close to us.”
Maria had all of the guns loaded to capacity and resting against trees. She looked at their surroundings, thankful that at least the wooded area they’d ended up in was not too thick. She wanted to be able to see anything coming for them in time to run. The more time they had to react, the better. "I think we'll be okay, Patrick. Your dad is going to be back anytime now, I’m sure of it...because if he isn’t, I’m going to hurt him.”
“Oh, Dad’s coming back, and he’s going to put the hurt on those things. It's a good thing you brought the guns along, since we left home and all those dead things came into the house.”
Maria smiled uneasily. It wouldn't be easy for Jude to see them from the road, where the trees were incredibly dense. She worried about Jude seeing what was left of the house—the only thing that might give Jude hope was the fact that her car wasn't there. She didn’t want to be a pessimist, but optimism was escaping her at the moment.
Patrick patted her on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, Maria, I'll keep you safe if they come down here.”
She gave him a tight hug, looking at the tree line and not letting her eyes off of it for anything. Patrick crawled into the tent and, within minutes, was passed out. The day had put a strain on both of them. Maria could feel the wobble in her neck—the longer she sat there, the more tired she grew. She longed for a nap, even if it only meant a few minutes, but knew she could not allow it, remaining vigilant until the moment the darkness overcame her.
Maria woke, startled and unsure what had roused her. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to wake up. The sleep had left her feeling even more exhausted than she had been already.
It was nearly pitch black. She grabbed some of the kindling they had collected earlier and placed it in the fire. The fading embers were hungry for food, and sh
e fed them until the flames grew. She checked the tent, unzipping it and making sure Patrick was still inside and still sound asleep. She found exactly what she wanted to: Patrick was curled up on the floor of the tent.
Branches cracked in the distance, and when she turned around she realized looking into the woods was even more difficult with the full fire going. Shadows danced in the woods, and she shook Patrick, quickly waking him. She got the guns into the bag, keeping out the shotgun, ready to take care of anything that came her way. Patrick said, “What is it—why did you wake me?”
Maria hushed him, kneeling down and trying her best to keep her eyes focused on the dark woods. When the dead came out of the shadows, she fired, each blast lighting up the forest. She saw that the five shells she'd loaded weren't nearly enough to cover the number of dead coming for them.
Patrick saw it, too, and could tell his aunt was getting nervous. “You want me to grab a rifle, Aunt Maria?”
She shook her head no; she knew he’d never fired a rifle at night. It seemed unwise to let someone who didn't know what he was doing send shots out into the black of night. She picked him up off the ground, and the two of them made their way through the woods as quickly as they could, leaving the supplies behind them. She would rather worry about their next meal than end up becoming one themselves.
When they had gotten away from the dead, there was no sound, and that was a blessing to the two of them. She stopped, looking around and trying to think which direction they needed to go. The forest looked so different at night that she had become lost. She heard more twigs snapping and decided against going any further. She pushed Patrick up into a tree and, after handing him the bag, she climbed up herself. The two of them climbed as high as they could. When they reached a safe height, she took off the strap from the duffle bag and secured the two of them around the waist so they could sleep without falling.
Patrick said, “You know, this might be the most fun we’ve ever had together, Aunt Maria.”
“Fun? You think that this is fun, Patrick?”
“Well, we got to go on the roof, we did fireworks, we drove a car through the woods into the river, jumped in the river, and now we get to sleep in a tree.”
“Well, there’s a good chance when your daddy gets back that we're going to sleep out in the woods for quite awhile. I have a feeling, though, we won’t be sleeping in trees.”
Patrick said, “Well, with the way those things trashed his tent, we won’t be sleeping in there.”
“Well, we had to choose between letting those things eat us or running for it and letting your dad get a new tent. We'll be able to pick up a new one, or maybe—even better—we can get a camper instead. Wouldn’t you like a big camper or RV?”
Patrick nodded, thinking of a bed on wheels. Within half an hour of sitting in the tree, Maria wished she had thought of somewhere better to hide. When she ran the flashlight back and forth across the forest floor, she instantly regretted it. The dead stared back at her, their eyes dark, distant, and hollow. When she turned off the light, the growling began, the breaking limbs and the clawing at the tree trunk not more than five feet below.
She kissed Patrick on the head, unsure what the two of them could do, if anything. Then she saw floodlights coming through the trees. She started firing Hail Mary shots up into the sky, praying someone would come to her rescue. She fired three times in a row and then stopped. The dead who had been trying to get up the tree became insane with rage and hunger. The noise in the black of night only confirmed that there were meals in the tree above them. She waited, praying to all that was holy they would be saved, mostly for Patrick’s sake. The thought of him lost in this current Hell on Earth was more than she could bear.
Patrick was holding on tightly to her and flinching with each blast of the shotgun. She said, “It's going to be okay, honey, just hold on. Whoever that is will hear us. They're going to get help and get us out of this tree, I promise, baby, I do.”
“I’m not a baby, Aunt Maria!”
“No, no, you aren't. You're a big, brave boy, just like your daddy. Now, I want you to hold on and plug your ears the best that you can. I’m going to fire off another round of shells." To herself, she thought, I hope they can find us, because I don’t have very many of these shells left.
Patrick nodded, wiping his nose on her shirt. “You got it, Aunt Maria, I got my ears plugged up real good. Next time, you need to bring me some earplugs—Dad always says to use them when we shoot.”
Maria patted him on the head. She added a shell and fired off three more as quickly as she could. She did not want the only possible chance she had to save the boy wasted by being stingy with her shots. When she took the final shot, the vehicle stopped, then came through the forest until it found the dead.
Chapter 13
Jude took it slow driving back into town. The trip across the state had definitely not been an easy one. They took the highway, and had tried to help as many people as they could on their travels, and shared the recipe with those who had not seen the announcement. At dusk, they ended up on Jude’s street. The number of dead roaming the area concerned him. He thought of nothing but Patrick and Maria, and when they pulled over near his house, he saw a horde around his house and the neighbors'.
Chuck said, “Oh, shit, Jude, you think they're still in there? Where's Maria’s car at?”
“I don’t fucking know, Chuck, maybe she moved it into the garage— maybe they left? I won’t really have an answer to that until we actually find her, will I? We have to go and check out the house.”
“You notice we got a lot of those dead just sitting there, right? How are we going to get them away from the house?”
“By doing something stupid.” Jude hit the horn, tapping it until he had all of their attention.
When the dead started walking their way, Chuck said, “So what the hell are you going to do now?”
Jude said, “I’m going to blind me some zombies and then chop their damn heads off. If anything's happened to my family, I won’t stop killing these fuckers until every last one of them has been put down or they put me down. But I assure you, they won't have an easy time of it.”
“Don’t go writing your family off yet, Jude. If you haven’t noticed, Maria's one tough woman, taking care of you all this time. You kind of attract them, if you know what I mean.”
Jude laughed. “I didn’t attract anyone—my wife died, and she came to care for Patrick. It was pretty simple.”
Jude opened the door, holding the hose in one hand. The army rifles were slung around his back for good measure. He sprayed the hose until every one of the dead within two hundred yards had been doused with the liquid. He loved the simplicity of it, and only wished they had forty of these set-ups ready to go. Jude could only imagine the power they would have—they would be able to drop the dead in droves.
When they started to lose their path and walk into one another, Jude gripped the machine gun and took out their knees as best he could. The dead fell, one after another, until they lay crippled in the street and the yard.
One of the neighbors, Laura McQuaig, stuck her head out the window. She screamed over the gunfire, “Jude, Jude, is that you? What the hell are you doing? You know what these things will do to you if given the chance? Christ, they chased off everyone else.”
“Did you see my family? Did you see Patrick and Maria?”
“Yeah, they're bat-shit crazy. They shot off fireworks from your roof down the street. It actually got rid of the dead for awhile, but, you know, not more than an hour later, those sons of bitches came right back up the street.”
Excitement fluttered in Jude's chest. “Wait, so that means they're alive?”
“No, no, it doesn’t mean that. It means they left here and they ain't here any longer. They headed down the street back toward town. The neighbors there jumped in with them, and the four of them left like a bat out of hell. She had the engine screaming as they drove down the road.”
Jude wi
nced at the thought of Maria trying to drive like hell with zombies everywhere. He pointed the direction they'd gone, and Laura nodded.
The neighbors came out, one by one, when they saw the group in the street, wanting to know what was going on. No one had came through to save anyone until now. None of Jude's neighbors had seen the military broadcast; they had been in the basements of their homes, bunkering down.
Joann read off the blinding concoction's ingredients, and people hurriedly wrote down the things they needed.
Within an hour, Jude had an entire city block armed with the liquid. The citizens were carrying whatever weapons they could muster. Chuck drove slowly so the townspeople could keep up. Charlie walked alongside the Humvee with his chainsaw ready to go. Jude sat with a rifle at the ready, and Leslie was seated behind their makeshift zombie water cannon. Joann wrote down the formula as quickly as she could to hand out to as many people as possible as they went along. She had to stop for a minute when she looked in the rearview mirror at the mass following they had gained in only a few short blocks. The people were scared, but they were brave, as well—ready to take back their city from the dead. There were people carrying axes, meat tenderizers, baseball bats, and some things Joann didn't even recognize or know the proper name for.
Chuck looked over at her and said, “You know, I kind of wish this thing had a radio. We need some theme music, because this whole thing here right now—yeah, it is bad-ass. We are going to take those things down, and there isn’t shit they can do about it.”
“You realize you shouldn’t say things like that, right?” Joann said.
“Please, would you look at the army we have? We’ll probably have all these things dead in, like, an hour or two.”
“You are basing that off of what, Chuck?”
“Are you trying to offend me?”
Joann just sat staring with her arms crossed.
Chuck said, “Okay, apparently you are trying to. I've been thinking about this for, like, ten minutes. There’s more people with every block. As long as nothing bad happens, we're gonna be just fine.”
