by Mark Tufo
“Dad, sweep the light back to the right, I thought I saw a glint,” Travis said.
I slowly panned the flashlight to the right. I did catch a flash of light. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the glint of an aluminum ladder. It was a watch, and even from this distance I could tell it was expensive. ‘Oh why couldn’t this be a natural disaster,’ I moaned to myself. I was surrounded by flat screen TVs and Xbox 360s and some dead dude’s Rolex. That brought me back quick; attached to the watch was a three-quarter eaten employee of the store, probably a manager by the looks of the watch. As we stepped closer we could clearly see the small girl child that was chewing through his head.
‘Well at least he won’t be coming back,’ I thought irrelevantly. The light struck her in the face and she looked up immediately. Malevolence creased her young features, almost as if to say ‘I’ll deal with you two after I’m finished here,’ and then she turned back to the task at hand.
Travis and I stopped, and he raised the Mossberg. I pushed my hand down on the barrel and shook my head no. First off, she wasn’t attacking us and I didn’t want the noise to bring any others, and second the thought of killing a child - even a child that had nothing of humanity left in her - just didn’t sit right. But that look, it was predatory. She knew what she was doing and she was enjoying it! God help us! God help us all!
We moved further down the bay, always aware of what was happening to our right, but the steady slurping of blood and the crunch of bone and cartilage stayed constant. We reached the far end of the bay before we came up on the ladder. It was a big ladder but I didn’t think it was going to telescope out to the top of the roof, which I figured to be about thirty-five feet.
“All right Trav, I’m going to grab the ladder. You’re going to have to cover us,” I said as I slung my M-16 over my shoulder.
The ladder made a loud clanging noise as I pulled it off its hooks. The sound nearly made me drop it. My nerves were on edge and my senses were firing on all cylinders. Travis was tense and his senses appeared heightened, but he didn’t seem any worse for the wear. We slowly made our way back towards the open bay we had come in through. When we were near where I thought the little girl was, I strained my ears to hear the telltale signs of a zombie eating. It was not a delicate affair. Nothing, I heard nothing. A cold chill, no scratch that, an arctic blast crept down my spine. I knew she was closing in, and somehow she was avoiding Travis’ sweeps with the flashlight. And then I felt her cold touch against the back part of my leg. I tried to scream, I’m not proud of that, but what came out was more like a strangled gurgle. There was no way I was going to be able to drop the ladder and turn around quick enough to defend myself. I waited for the pain of gnashing teeth clamping down on my calf. I looked up to Travis hoping that he had heard my gurgle for help; maybe he already had a bead on her and I could be saved the fate of being dessert for some undead tweenie. But the gods were not aligned with me. Travis wasn’t even looking my way. He had the light and the shotgun pointed off to our left where the little monster was now chewing her way through what was left of the manager’s spinal column. I chanced a look behind me. What I saw would have blanched my face bone white, if not for the fact that blood was now flowing into my face. Relief and embarrassment commingled as I pulled the ladder’s guide wire back up and wrapped it around one of the rungs.
“Dad, you all right back there?” Travis asked as his gun never wavered off the scene he was looking at.
“Ugh...” I started off brightly. “Yep.” I wanted to add more, but a large chunk of self-loathing was stuck in my throat.
We were close to exiting when Tracy hit the horn. It wasn’t a long blast, but it scared the crap out of me. This time I dropped the ladder, which rattled Travis. His gun fired, taking out a piece of meat still left on Mr. Department Manager who would never get the chance to realize his dream of mediocrity and middle management. Some of the shots peppered the little girl in the face. The pellets sank into the soft flesh of her face. Her left cheek sloughed off from the assault exposing tiny baby teeth stained red and encrusted with the gore of her meal. She rose to meet this new threat, and the sight left a lasting mark on me that still haunts most of my nights. In her right hand she dragged what appeared to be her dolly, a remnant from her past life. Did she just not have the mental capacity to let go of the dregs from her previous existence? Was there somewhere deep down in the nether-lands of her pillaged soul, some last hold out? I wanted to know.
Travis didn’t. He blew her head off. Her small body, adorned in possibly her favorite blue dress, stood for perhaps a heartbeat longer before she crumpled to the floor atop her last meal, still clutching the doll. For all intents and purposes, if you took the blood away it looked like a happy embrace between a father and his daughter. I launched something from my stomach. What it was I’ll never know because I was empty. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if I had hacked up a kidney.
Travis looked a little green around the gills but he wasn’t suffering the effects nearly as bad as I was. I stood back up, grabbed the ladder and headed out into the night. There was nothing more in there I EVER wanted to see again. I stepped down from the loading bay. The night seemed blindingly bright after the darkness we had just left, both literally and figuratively. Travis motioned with his gun to indicate what Tracy had beeped her horn about. Coming around the corner was a lone zombie. He was still a hundred yards away and didn’t seem like a huge threat at the moment, but I was getting the sneaky suspicion this was not going to end well. Tracy was gesturing wildly in the car.
“I know, we see it too,” I stage whispered to her. It amazed me that I was already starting to call them ‘ITS’ instead of ‘THEMS.’ “It” seemed such an impersonal word to describe what was once a human, but it was much easier this way.
I was extending the ladder out and preparing to stand it up when I heard a voice from above. No, unfortunately it wasn’t THAT voice from above.
“Dad!” Justin said, a little more loudly than I would have hoped. I looked up to acknowledge him. “We’re about to have some company,” he finished.
“Yeah, we saw it,” I replied as I struggled to get the ladder in position.
“Yeah, no,” came his cryptic reply. “I mean there’s about a dozen of them heading this way.”
A sweat broke out on my forehead and it was only partially because of the exertion. “How much time?” I grunted. The ladder was in place and it was a good ten feet short from the top.
“A couple of minutes at the most,” he riposted.
“Oh great! This just gets better and better!” was my response. Things just were not going as planned. And then I full out laughed. Maybe I was close to the edge, I don’t know, but it was a laugh I could have lost myself in. Who the hell PLANS for this! I finished with my semi-hysterical outbreak, thankful for the relief it spawned.
“Dad? You all right?” Justin asked.
“I’m as good as I’m going to get,” I retorted. “Get somebody, preferably two people to come and help you.”
He looked at me quizzically.
“They are going to have to lower you over the edge and you’re going to have to drop to the ladder.”
“No fu…” he started. “I mean NO way, that’s gotta be a twenty foot drop to the ladder, I’ll never make it.”
“It’s twelve feet max,” I told him. “You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know about this,” He hedged.
“Justin, we don’t have time to argue, you either get on the ladder within the next minute or so or we have to leave.” I forced the issue.
I could see Justin mentally began to weigh his choices. I wasn’t prepared to let him prioritize.
“Justin,” I started. “So I know you have beer and a pellet gun plus you have a safe haven.” I could see him nodding, he was thinking the same thing. Then I started with the negatives. “How much food do you have?” I asked.
“Food?” was his response.
“Yeah you know, the
stuff you put in your mouth, chew and swallow,” I answered. I was being on the dickish side but I didn’t have time for diplomacy, the first zombie was within twenty yards and his teammates were now rounding the bend.
“Well Tommy has a box of ring dings and Bill has a power bar or two, and…” he reasoned.
‘Are you kidding me?’ I screamed in my brain. ‘Calm down, breathe, count to ten, scratch that, better make it five. One, two, three… .’
“Get some help now!” I demanded. “That FOOD won’t last the night. As for your safe haven, do you have any blankets or tents or stoves or ANYTHING that will keep you warm?”
He just kept looking at me like I was nuts.
“Justin, you guys won’t make it two nights up there; if you don’t die of the elements, you’ll die of dehydration in at most four days.”
“We have beer!” he said triumphantly.
“How long is your 30-pack going to last you? Through the night maybe,” I finished cynically.
“Dad, I’ve got to think about this, that’s a huge drop,” he responded.
“Okay fine, I’ll give you until…” I pulled up my sleeve to look at my nonexistent watch. “NOW! Get your ass down here.”
He still hesitated. If for a second I thought I could bridge the gap from the ladder to the roof, I would have done it, just so I could grab him by the ear and get him.
“Oh, shit,” Justin moaned, as he moved to align himself with the ladder and begin down.
“Get your friends to help you!” I yelled up. He was finally doing what I wanted him to do, just not in the manner in which I wanted it done; isn’t that about typical for teenagers.
“Um too late for that Dad,” he added as his legs swung over the edge. “They just broke through the door.”
I didn’t need any more clarification than that. “Give me a second while I secure the ladder.”
Justin let go of the roof just as I was attempting to secure the ladder’s footholds. Somewhere in my semi-panicked mode I heard distant screams, and then it sounded like the world was blowing up. Justin fell and entirely missed the first two rungs. The ladder clanged and swayed violently as he caught himself on the third rung, his feet swinging wildly. He almost lost his tentative grip on the ladder when the Mossberg let go with a three-round burst, which was impressive considering it was a pump action shotgun. The closest zombie lay in a heap; what was left of him wouldn’t feed a runway model. His backup, however, had swelled to around twenty, the first group was about sixty yards away and the second group had just come around the corner. We were about to have one humdinger of a get together. Justin was halfway down the ladder when I swung my attention back to him. I looked past him to notice the fat kid with the Butterfinger gun peering cautiously over the edge. I wanted to get Justin down and just plain haul ass out of here. But I couldn’t do it.
“Wait till Justin gets off the ladder, then swing your legs down. We’ll hold it steady,” I yelled. Justin looked up to see who I was talking to.
“Tommy!” Justin yelled. “You can do it.”
“They’re up here Justin, they just killed Bill. I…I guess that means we won’t have to come in to work tomorrow,” Tommy said. His eyes had that hollowed out look I was growing to know so well.
Justin had finally hit terra firma.
“Justin, you’ve got thirty seconds to convince your fat friend to get his ass down here or we’re leaving,” I whispered harshly.
Tracy beeped the horn again.
I turned viciously. “Do you think that’s helping?” I barked. She wanted out and so did I, but I wasn’t leaving the big kid unless I had to, although I think we had passed that point a minute ago.
“Tommy!” Justin called. “Come on man, there’s no time to figure it out, they’re up there, let’s go.”
Bill’s distant screams finally subsided, and I don’t think it was because he got away. That steeled Tommy’s resolve. He began to swing his huge bulk over the edge, still gripping the pellet gun. Images of the little girl clutching her doll welled up inside me.
“Let go of the pellet gun, Tommy!” I snapped, more for me than him in all likelihood. “It isn’t going to do you any good down here and you’re going to need both hands to hold onto the ladder.”
I didn’t think anybody but the man of steel himself was going to be able to stop that bulk once it got in motion. The more I began to think it through the less I liked the idea. The odds were good that Justin and I were about to become human pancakes, sandwiched under the enormous bulk of Tommy. I was about to grab Justin and have him abandon his post, no sense in both of us dying in this vain attempt, when the ladder vibrated slightly. I looked up. Tommy had grabbed the first rung and was beginning his descent. ‘Holy Crap’ was all I could mutter. My amazement was short-lived however. The zombies that broke through the door on the roof were looking over the edge. I wanted to shout at them triumphantly that they had lost, ‘no more dinner for you, nyah nyah nyah,’ when the first of them simply walked off the roof, followed by a second and a third and then a half dozen. The snapping of multiple bones ricocheted off the Wal-Mart wall, sounding like small arms fire. It was deafening. It was sickening.
Tommy made it down the ladder and the three of us just stared at the horror that was unfolding in front of us. Most of the zombies had landed on legs that were now shattered beyond any use. Some had ended in a swan dive, never to rise again. The ones with the shattered legs and spinal columns started to pull themselves along with their arms or used their chins on the ground in a vain attempt to move. Whatever locomotion was available to them they used to try to get to us. It was like watching the ‘Terminator.’ Sadly, we were the Sarah Connors in this remake. Tracy’s horn blared again. Travis had finished reloading and was firing again. Our reverie broken, we ran for the car.
“Get in!” I yelled, as if anyone needed the instruction.
Tracy scooted over so I could drive. Tommy’s enormous bulk ended up on the hump seat in the back; he looked like a huge bowling bowl, and my boys unhappily looked like two bowling pins pushed up against the windows.
“Sorry,” Tommy said as he tried his best to reduce the crushing effect of his immensity.
We were staring down thirty or so advancing zombies and had fifteen or so mostly disabled zombies to our rear. Tommy extended his ring-ding glazed hand to me.
“I’m Tommy,” he said with a beaming smile, mostly white teeth except for the chocolate stuck up on his gum line.
I sent my hand back, this wasn’t the time but it was a conditioned response and besides I didn’t see any reason to dispense with civility. “I’m Dad…I mean Mr. Tal…oh forget it, you can just call me Mike,” I said.
“Mr. Tal, what’s that smell?” Tommy said as he still gripped my hand. I pulled back and grunted.
“Dad stepped in Henry crap!” Travis smiled.
“Great, just great,” I mumbled as I put the car in gear and gunned the engine.
I know Jeeps are tough, but how many bodies can I hit before I do irreparable damage? I’m sure the Chrysler Corporation never planned for this. I did my best to go around the edges of the oncoming horde, but with only twelve feet of width I only had so many options. Tracy ducked down under the dash as best she could. I could tell she was glaring at me in response to the damage I was about to inflict on her car. She’d have to wait, I could only deal with one deadly problem at a time.
Justin yelled, “Look out Dad, I think you’re going to hit them!”
I honestly wanted to stop the car and thank Captain Obvious. If he hadn’t forewarned me, I might just have gone and hit the zombies without ever realizing I was going to.
The impact was more jarring than I think any of us were prepared for. I didn’t know a human body would have that much effect on a two-ton SUV. I guess it was because it was deadweight, and yes, even in my head I got the rim shot sound effect. By the time I’d plowed through the fourth or fifth zombie it looked like we had gone through a car wash designed by Stephen
King. Pieces of bone, flesh and congealed blood littered the hood and the windshield. At some point in this zombie smash up derby I had the wherewithal to turn on the windshield wipers and the washers. Even I was impressed with myself until Tracy let the wind out of my sails; I saw her hand pulling back into the relative safety under the dashboard.
I was feeling good that we would make it out of the parking lot, but I didn’t think Tracy’s car was going to make it much further than that. The radiator was shot, and steam was pouring out of the front of the car. I could hear the serpentine belt whining as it was being shredded against some foreign object. The car was bucking wildly like we were on an unbroken horse. It felt like either the engine or the transmission was about to drop onto the ground. In all likelihood it was going to be both. But even at the blistering fifteen mph that I was making I was still putting distance between ourselves and the pack that followed. The car made it halfway home before it just plain died.
CHAPTER 5
Journal Entry - 5
Any semblance of a chance I thought I had of getting to Nicole’s had vanished. After the damage from the second or third zombie hit, and with the addition of Tommy to our load, I didn’t know how we would have fit her and Brendon in the car. But still my heart sank. Sure I’d saved one of my kids, but one was still out there. And to top it off I wasn’t completely sure about the saving part. We were a good mile and a half away from sanctuary and there were still a bunch of zombies on the loose. I tried the ignition a couple of times with no success. I would have kept at it if it weren’t for the fact that the sound would be attracting some undesirables and we had to leave. We could hear sirens and some small arms fire off in the distance, even some small explosions. Homemade bombs, I mused, I should have thought of that. I got out of the car quickly. Motioning everyone else to do the same, I opened the trunk to a yawning and stretching Henry.
