by Lee Dunter
Jeff was quickly becoming surrounded, and it didn’t even look like he noticed. Ryan, horrified, called out to him. Jeff either paid him no attention or couldn’t hear him above the clamor in the streets. Ryan turned to the twins, his concern clearly portrayed on his face. They both shrugged.
Joe said, “Told him not to go out there.”
Suddenly another monster–once a short, fat woman–approached Jeff from behind. Jeff backed straight into her plump abdomen. She wrapped her arm around him–a backwards bear hug–and started ripping off pieces of his flesh with her mouth. Jeff tried to wriggle free, but she had a strong hold, and he was becoming sandwiched among the crowd; there was nowhere for him to go. Two more monsters rushed Jeff, blocking him from Ryan’s view. Screaming loudly, Jeff fell to the ground and was lost amongst the mass of monsters and men.
Ryan turned away, feeling sick in his stomach. The twins were now looking at each other, silently deciding whether or not to bring him along. They nodded, and pointed back towards the road from which they came.
Roe, the twin without the southern accent, spoke. “We’re going to cut through this road and go to Piedmont Park. We know a guy who owns a gun shop down there. You can come with us if you want.” He nodded, and his twin followed, not missing a beat.
It wasn’t even a choice. He would not survive alone, and he could not make it to the hospital dead. He followed the twins down the road, away from all of the commotion. He still wielded his baseball bat and the twins, Ryan saw, had each picked up a crowbar when he wasn’t looking. As he followed the two, who were almost at a dead sprint, Ryan thought about Jeff’s last words. What did he mean that they had been waiting for this? Did they somehow know what was happening? And the way he spoke of glory. It was as if he wanted to be a super hero. Ryan was confused, but he was certain that there would be no heroes born out of this mess; only fear and pain could be born here.
Chapter 4
The road became too crowded, people and empty cars littering the streets. Ryan and the twins cut left into the parking lot of a diner, which ended abruptly and paved the way into a grassy area sporadically littered with trees. They ran into the grass, their footsteps becoming silent. As he followed, Ryan was beginning to feel uneasy about his decision to follow these strangers. He knew nothing about them, and his assumption that he was safer with them could be completely untrue. They could be dangerous people. Just stop following, then, he thought, make your way to the hospital. Yet even as the thoughts formed, he knew there was no hospital to go to.
Ryan looked up and saw that the twins were breaking ahead. He tried to pick up his pace, but he was too exhausted and fell farther behind. Pain flared in his side, his legs burned, and the bat became surprisingly heavy in his grip. Finally, he was forced to stop. He hunched over, falling into the grass, sucking up as much air as he possibly could. Now that he was on the ground gasping for breath, Ryan wished the twins would stop and wait, and to Ryan’s relief, they took notice of him and did. They were barely out of breath compared to Ryan. This is why they hesitated to bring me along, he thought. They’re not the danger. I am. No one spoke as Ryan regained his composure; no words could assuage anyone’s shocked state. Ryan found the silence uncomfortable, but he was too out of breath to do anything about it. When ready to run again, he stood. “All right. I’m ready now.”
Shortly after restarting their run, a figure suddenly appeared from behind one of the trees in the distance. The twins readied their crowbars and charged, and the figure yelled, “Hey, hey what are you doing? I’m not a freaking zombie! Put your weapons down, man!”
A zombie? Ryan thought. Did he just say a zombie? No, of course not. Zombies were fictional beings. He was too far away to hear accurately, that was all. Before he could contemplate further, the kid was in front of them. He was around the age of twenty and the same height as Ryan, although far skinnier. He wore a pair of tight blue jeans, and a gray V-neck that revealed the upper portion of his skinny, hairless chest.
“Whoo,” he said, bending over. “Pretty crazy what’s going on, huh? The name’s Cameron. You can call me Cam.” He rose up and extended his left hand, expecting someone to take it. When no one did, he awkwardly pulled it back. “Er, right. Well, do you guys think I could stick with you? Strength in numbers, right?”
The twins simultaneously shook their heads. “Nope, wrong,” Joe said. “You’ll just slow us down more. Sorry, but you can’t come with us.”
Cam smiled for a second, thinking it a joke, then it fell away. “Hold on, you’re joking right?”
“Not at all.”
Ryan, appalled, shouted at the twins: “Guys, hold on. You can’t be serious. Odds are he’ll die if we leave him here alone . . . we can’t do that to him.” Came gave Ryan an appreciative glance, then nodded.
The twins stopped and, with their backs to Cam and Ryan, talked under their breaths. Once finished, they turned to deliver their judgment. “Fine, you can come with us. But don’t make us regret this.”
Such sympathy, Ryan thought. But he couldn’t complain: they said yes.
Once they began moving again, the grass quickly faded into concrete. To the left of the group was a small lake. They ran past its glossy shine, crossed over more concrete, and came to the corner of Piedmont Park, an oval collection of soccer and baseball fields. The park was not empty today: screaming people ran for their lives towards countless destination; some monsters pursued while others took care of the prey that they had already caught. In the center of the park, under a collection of trees, a group of stoners sat, smoking and watching all of this happen.
As Ryan and the others ran along the track, which encircled all of the playing fields, their presence became noticed. Ahead, three monsters came onto the track and made their way towards the group. Unarmed, Cam fell back, while the other three pressed forward. The twins sprinted ahead of Ryan, who picked up his pace to keep up, but the twins outran him and reached the monsters first. Before Ryan even had a chance, the twins had bashed the things brains onto the concrete. Ryan stared astonished at the scene before him, now glad that he chose to follow the twins. The twins had to catch their breath.
“We’re almost there,” Roe said, huffing, as Ryan and Cam approached. “That’s the store over there.” He pointed past the park and across the street to a cluster of buildings. Ryan could see the store sitting at the corner of the nearest intersection. It was close, but the path was covered with monsters that made a dense pack right outside of the store.
Ryan had a disturbing thought. “What if the store is locked?”
“Well . . .” Joe said. It was obvious he hadn’t considered the possibility. “If it’s locked then we’re going to be in a lot of trouble. But we’re in a lot of trouble as it is. So I don’t reckon it will be much different.” He turned to look at a group of monsters in the distance. “We gotta get out of the city eventually, and I don’t know about you, but I think I want more than a crowbar to pull that off.”
“Plus there’s apartments above the store,” Roe said. “The owner lives up there, and he should let us rest up before we head out.”
Ryan looked towards the heart of the city, and in the skyline, just above the trees, he could see buildings jutting up into the air, standing tall above all the madness occurring below. He shifted the bat from his right arm to his left. “I’m not leaving the city, not yet. My wife, she needs my help.”
Even without the looks–both sympathetic and hard–that he received from the others, he knew that the others would oppose, call him crazy. But what was he supposed to do? Leave Deborah behind in this mess.
“It’s your call,” Roe said. “Are you coming?”
Ryan nodded. “I’ll need weapons.”
They looped around the park for about another hundred yards, and, passing over lush grass towards a parking lot, left the track behind. They paused at the corner of the building to which the parking lot belonged. Ryan peered around corner of the building, and, in the distance, he coul
d see the gun store sign. It read: Shooting Range, Guns, and Others Too.
Original, Ryan thought.
One thing stood in between them and this hopeful savior: a six-lane road filled with monsters and the corpses that these beasts had created; dead bodies, blood, and entrails lining the pavement of the road. No one here was alive, for all the living either escaped this hell or were now part of the gore littering the street.
Currently the group was still unnoticed, but Ryan felt that this would soon change. His heart was beating wildly. He could feel sweat pouring down his forehead and his back and his legs. His stomach was a knot of nervous tumbles. In his mind, Ryan couldn’t stop seeing his stomach being torn open, his throat being ripped out; he pictured himself watching helplessly as a swarm of these cannibalistic monsters descended on him and tore shreds of flesh from his body, eating it right in front of his eyes.
Joe placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan jumped.
“Don’t worry,” Joe said. “This will suck, but we’ll be all right. Now, listen: don’t attack if you don’t have to. Everyone stick close. Kid, you stay in the middle of us.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Run for it on my command.”
Doubtful, Ryan looked at the street. Some were eating the dead bodies on the ground while others just stood motionless, staring ahead, as if not even alive. The plan seemed too risky, but he would not oppose it when he knew that the twins were his only chance of helping Deborah.
Cam spoke up. “Wait, so that’s the plan? Just run for it. Stick together. Hopefully you won’t get your head ripped off!”
Joe put a finger to his lips to silence him. “Do you have a better one?”
Cam’s eyes shifted nervously over the ground, searching for an answer he would not find. His silence decided it.
Joe looked at Ryan, eyebrows raised. Ryan nodded, despite not feeling ready at all. In fact, the only reason Ryan didn’t break down was the prospect of being armed and safe in that apartment. Maybe he could finally get some of his questions answered too. Looking at their faces, listening to the way they talked, he could not help but feel as if he were the only one who did not know what was going on.
“All right everyone.” Roe pointed at Ryan. “You and me will take the front. Kid, you stay right behind us. And Joe, you bring up the rear.”
“Okay,” Joe said. “On the count of three, we run. No heroes here.”
The thought of being a hero was laughable. Ryan had seen enough carnage for one day–for a lifetime for that matter. He took his position next to Roe and brought his bat to a ready position as the others fell in to their places.
“One . . .Two . . . Three!”
They sped off around the corner in a sprint and hopped the white fence that ran along the building’s front yard. The group was three lanes deep before the first sign of trouble. Hearing a growl, Ryan turned to see a monster only a few feet away. He had no time to determine if the monster was threatening him. He brought the bat down against its skull, issuing a loud crack and causing an echo to reverberate between the buildings. This noise seemed to alert the other monsters of their presence. Screams filled the street as the once-human creatures woke from their mindless dazes.
Ryan’s last swing had knocked him off balance, tripping him and bringing him to a complete stop. Just then, another monster approached Ryan, and this time there was no uncertainty; he could see the threat in the monster’s blood shot eyes. Ryan raised the bat, terrified. The monster would reach him before he could swing. Then suddenly its head burst open with a spray of red. Ryan blinked rapidly in surprise and felt warm blood soaking his shirt.
Joe grabbed Ryan by the neck and pushed him forward. “Keep moving!” Just as Ryan reached his spot again, he heard Joe crack the skull of another monster, like the sound of wood splitting. They sprinted ahead. All around them monsters were swarming in, but the team was small, and they managed to weave in and out, avoiding unnecessary violence. Ryan preferred it this way. The situation somehow seemed safer, although safety was a relative term now. Nothing was truly safe out here.
They reached the turning lane. Monsters filled the space between them and the door. Ryan turned to look behind. The monsters, two rotting walls of these creatures, surrounded them. Ryan wanted to flee, thought the path behind was just as crowded. But the twins pushed forward, quickening their pace, and Ryan had no choice but to follow. There was a tight group of monsters in front of the door. Roe ran at them, reaching them before the rest of the group. He swiftly swung his crowbar and nailed the temple of the first beast. It plopped lifeless to the ground. Another monster attempted to grab him with flailing arms, but Roe ducked under, spun around in a complete circle, and used the momentum from the spin to crash the crowbar against the monster’s knee. As it fell to the ground, he brought the crowbar back down against the monsters head, cracking its skull before it landed.
When the others reached the battle, Ryan saved Roe from the advance of an unseen monster, while Joe managed to dispose of two others.
No matter how many they killed, more appeared.
On the ground Cam slid underneath the legs of two to get to the door. One of them grabbed his leg, but Ryan hit it with the bat, allowing Cam to get safely under. Cam pushed the door open and dashed inside.
The others sped towards the door, pushing some monsters back with their weapons and dodging the others. The twins reached the door first and barreled inside, knocking Cam backwards onto the ground. Ryan, about to step inside, was grabbed on the arm, being pulled back into the street. He could feel arms grabbing at him from everywhere, on his arms and chest and face, pulling him closer bloody mouths. This was the end. He closed his eyes, ready to die. He thought of Deborah, and he longed to be reunited with her.
Through closed eyes, Ryan could see something bright and shiny pass over his head, like the sun was reflecting into them. He heard a disgusting, wet sound and then a thump. The pulling lessened and then suddenly stopped. He rushed forward into the building and collapsed into the room. Cam, now on his feet, slammed the door shut, bolting it.
“Watch out!” Joe screamed. Cam backed away from the door just as a gate came down in front of the door and large front window.
Roe reached down and picked Ryan up. As he rose, Ryan saw the weapon that saved his life in Roe’s other hand: a blood-soaked katana.
“Thanks,” Ryan muttered, still startled. I can’t believe we survived.
“No problem,” Roe said.
The four men stood there in silence, breathing heavily and sweat pouring. The only audible sounds were that of fists against the windows and doors. This drowned out the group’s deep breaths. Ryan looked nervously at the door, then turned away, trying to ignore the noise. He gazed around the dark room. The space was small, hunting clothes and gear crowding the walk space. In front of the left wall sat a long counter. Through its glass panel, knives, ammunition, and handguns were on display. Behind it on the wall hung an assortment of shotguns and large rifles, swords and crossbows. Ryan had never felt so grateful to be surrounded by such dangerous weapons. Redneck paradise, Ryan thought. And maybe just what we need to get Deborah to help.
As he scanned the wall, Ryan noticed many empty spots, one of which was where Roe had taken the Katana from. I wonder if the people who took the others are still alive?
There was an open door to the right of the counter. Above it was a sign that read Shooting Range. Ryan walked towards it and saw ammunition littering the floor, falling out of a closet.
Joe approached Ryan, and bluntly asked, “You get bit?”
“What?”
“Were you bit? Were you scratched?”
“Uh . . . ” Ryan inspected his arms and body. “No. I feel fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Why?” When no one answered, Ryan’s temper rose. “What is going on here? Do you guys know something about all of this? If so, then out with it because it’s starting to fucking piss me off–”
A noise clam
ored above them: a door smashed open. Ryan thought of his door, the number 714 falling to the ground. Footsteps echoed down a flight of stairs. Ryan followed the path of the noise with his eyes, fearing the worst. Each time the sounds grew louder Ryan’s stomach churned. Eventually, his eyes met a previously unnoticed door at the back of the room. The door shook as someone banged on it from the other side.
Chapter 5
The door began to give as it was repeatedly hit, splinters cracking around the lock. Ryan shuddered, for he knew the door would soon fall, and there would be no place to escape the monsters from the other side of the door. The group had somehow managed to get surrounded again. Despite being surrounded by weapons, Ryan felt helpless. With a crack, a final blow swung the door open, crashing against the back wall. Two figures stood beyond the door. The sun shone brightly behind them, and in the dark Ryan could not make out the features of the glowing phantoms. He watched as they made their way towards the group, a sight that made his stomach churn. After a few paces, the figures stopped.
Something suddenly changed in Ryan. He felt the weight of everything: finding his wife as a monster, breaking her legs with the bat, watching a child be eaten by her father. The images circled his thoughts, angering him, until he snapped, and a rage filled him, more intense than he had ever felt. He charged towards the door, his bat resting on his right shoulder. He gripped it with both hands. Almost within swinging distance, ready for whatever lay ahead, his arms tingling with expectation, he heard a small, frightened voice.
“Hello? Who . . . who is there?”
Ryan stopped, puzzled. He narrowed his eyes on the motionless figures and slowly realized the truth: these were humans, not monsters. Did I just almost murder someone? he thought. In his paranoia, he hadn’t even bothered to check if these were people or monsters.
