Beyond the Barriers

by Timothy W. Long

  We passed the car, looked it over, and then walked to the road as the last part of our reconnoiter. I hugged the bushes while Katherine stood back and covered me. Unmoving, I kept an eye on the entry for a few minutes. My focus roving around, I listened and watched, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. With a heavy sigh, I turned and smiled at her, so she joined me at the gate.

  “I hope he was the only one.”

  “Me too. I don’t want to go through that again.”

  “You’ve killed them before. What’s the big deal?” Her voice was as dead as the thing in the woods I had smashed into the dirt. I regretted the killing, but she seemed blasé, as if taking a human life was the norm.

  “I did, but that doesn’t mean I liked it.”

  “You get used to it.”

  She spun on her heel and walked up the road toward the cabin.

  That night was much as the last, except we talked about where we should go next. They had put some gas in the Honda at the fort, but it wouldn’t last long enough to get us around the mountain from this side. We would probably have to head back to Vesper Lake and try to get through the city. I was hoping that if we could keep up enough speed, we would be able to just zip through the tiny town, and then get on the freeway and follow the caravan before a horde figured out where we were going. They should be in Portland now, enjoying the good life. I bet it was all smiles, flowing beer, and plates of hot food. Or at least something to eat, I thought as I chewed on a hunk of dried deer meat that had a strong smoke flavor and nothing else.

  We lay in bed, side by side, my head near her ear. Her hair frizzed out, probably from not having any sort of conditioner. I tried to imagine what she had been like before the event, but I had trouble picturing her as a classic soccer mom with a minivan and kids in the back.

  “When we reach a place with people, I’ll understand if you want to leave me and find someone else.” She spoke softly into her pillow, barely above a whisper.

  “I don’t want to be with anyone else,” I assured her, tugging her naked body closer to me under the sheets. She was so soft and warm under the blanket that I wanted to stay this way for a week.

  “I can’t have children,” she reminded me after a long, quiet moment.

  “I don’t care. I don’t have any, and never put much thought into the idea of having them anyway.”

  “But it would be irresponsible, Erik. How many people are dead out there? We need everyone to help repopulate the world. I don’t have a place in that world. I can’t contribute a child.”

  “Katherine, you aren’t a breeding machine. No one is. Life will return no matter what and no matter who I want to be with. I don’t want to run around and bang rows of girls in the hopes of making one pregnant. There will be plenty of horn dogs up for that job.” I tried to make a joke of it, but she didn’t laugh.

  “It’s not funny. All the children are dead, so many are just … gone. We need to have more, and I can’t help. I had cervical cancer, but Frank didn’t care. He and I had two already, and we were happy.” She sobbed into the pillow, and I held her close. It was the first time she had mentioned the name of one of her family.

  I didn’t know what to say. I was going to tell her I loved her, and I think I did. I certainly had strong feelings for her, but was it enough to overcome this ... this insecurity? Her body shook, and she pressed her head deeper into the down pillow and tried to stifle the sobs. I wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but there was no way to know that with certainty.

  “Kat, I …”

  A pair of green eyes stared into the window from less than twenty feet away.

  “Oh fuck!” I stifled the exclamation at the last second. I was out of bed in another second, and into my pants before the glow disappeared. Snatching up the shotgun from where it rested near the bed, I checked the load while I was getting into my boots.

  Katherine came to her feet, and the blankets piled around the middle of the bed, while she stared at me like I had seen a ghost. I had seen a ghost, or a ghoul, to be precise. And the son of a bitch was right outside the cabin.

  “Ghoul,” I whispered, and she dropped down to find her clothes. I tossed the gun on the bed, shrugged into a shirt, and buttoned up the top. I glanced outside as I moved, watching for the green thing in the bushes, but it was gone.

  I went to the front of the cabin with Katherine close behind. She didn’t even question; she just grabbed the handgun, popped the magazine and double-checked the load, slammed it into the piece, and then slid the top back to load a round. She followed as she performed the movements, all smooth, all by the book. I was impressed once again with the way she went about this. She was a seasoned pro, and I, the former military guy, was left looking a little frazzled.

  I checked the windows, ducking low as I did so, but I sucked in a breath and stood up. Those things didn’t use guns; they attacked en masse and didn’t care for the consequences or losses. They were one step above mindless zombies—the monsters that had started the whole event. I hoped it was just one of the damn ghouls. I didn’t know how we would defend against a hundred of them. It had to be one, just like the zombie I killed in the woods earlier. It had to be a single ghoul, lost and alone in the woods.

  Maybe I was just seeing things, just imagining the man with green eyes, the shape in the woods, and the impression of someone watching me with Katherine in bed. Fury filled me, and I gripped the shotgun tightly. I strode to the front door and opened it, letting it swing back wildly to bang against the wall. How dare one of those things invade my privacy. Was there no place free of them?

  I had the irrational dread that they would overrun us, take us, eat our flesh, or change us into them. The details on the ghouls had been scarce, but Thomas had told me enough to scare me. He told me about how the things had become smarter, how they had seemed to be making plans and following through with them. How they drove the first zombies before them like an army. An army of the dead.

  I aimed the gun in the wan light, but all I saw were half shapes—shadows of things that were barely visible in the three-quarter moon. The trees around the cabin made it twice as hard to see, rendering it darker than it should be.

  I wanted the darkness now; I wanted to fade into it and hunt the monster down. It was just a dead man who would soon have no head. They didn’t have any special powers, and they certainly didn’t possess strength beyond that of a human. What they did have, from what I had witnessed in my few skirmishes with them, was a rage that went beyond anything I had ever seen before. Soldiers on the front line didn’t even act that insane. The ghouls had shrugged off wounds, gunshots, kicks to the head, and came on more pissed off than before.

  “Where are you?” I whispered to myself as I panned the gun around the area.

  I heard Katherine moving behind me on the porch. I risked a glance back, and found her leaning against a post that supported the porch roof, so she blended into the darkness like part of the cabin.

  She blinked, her eyes bright white against the dark, and I grinned at her.

  Turning, I took a step toward the woods and stopped right at the edge. I didn’t move, stood as still as I could for a few minutes, but I didn’t hear any movement. I was prepared to admit I was seeing things; one of those dreams you have in the day when you close your eyes for a few minutes. I had probably slipped into that half realm of sleep and didn’t even realize it. But as I prepared to go back to the cabin, I heard movement.

  It was to the right, so I swung the gun that way. Then movement to the left. I backed up a step and panned the gun around me. Whipping my head around, I tried to focus on one sound, but movement in front of me threw me off.

  I heard Katherine gasp and turned to look. She had taken a step down the stairs and stood on the bottom one, staring away from me, into the darkness. Following her gaze, I saw a figure move into the moonlight. It was a woman in torn clothing, and she moved like she was injured. I ran in that direction, gun locked against my shoulder. />
  “Hey, hey! Are you hurt?” I knew the words were stupid right after they came out of my mouth. She was a zombie—had to be. Living people didn’t move like that. That slow, shambling half-stagger like a drunk trying to look sober—but less coordinated.

  I didn’t get a chance for further inquiries, as Katherine pulled the gun up to eye level, aimed, and put one right between the woman’s eyes. The woman stopped as if in shock, then sank to her knees and fell face forward into the dirt with a finality that sickened me. Her arms didn’t even flop; her legs and arms didn’t twitch.

  I spun around as something crunched across the grass, catching sight of an enormous man with no shirt on, who moved in slow motion. He was dressed like a farmer—overalls on, suspenders half off of his massive frame. His mouth was missing its jaw, and ribbons of flesh swayed from his head, just like they did at his open gut. I followed my girlfriend’s actions by raising the gun and blowing his head off.

  No matter what you think about me from reading this tale, I do not take any pleasure in killing. I flinched when I did it. I don’t think taking a life is an action that anyone should ever contemplate, let alone perform. But it was necessary, and the fact that they weren’t exactly alive helped propel me along the path to becoming a mass murderer.

  His head half-disappeared, and he fell backwards as the buckshot threw him off his feet.

  Katherine’s gun popped a couple of times behind me, so I spun around. She was contending with a pair of zombies that came out of the woods. From what I saw of them, it looked like they were on a hiking trip before they died. An older man and woman, they were both covered in blood. He stooped as he staggered, and, despite missing an arm, his backpack remained on one shoulder. He carried it low, like some bizarre hunchback.

  They both dropped, and I had to back up as three more came out of the woods toward me. Curse the night. It made them almost impossible to see unless they were right in front of us. I fired low, intent on at least hitting them if I couldn’t make a headshot. I was backing toward the cabin, gun level, and I knew that Katherine had my back. The gun fired again, this time twice, and one more of the things dropped.

  I moved toward her, toward the sounds she made as she lifted the gun and fired. At one point, I thought I was right next to the cabin, but I was much farther away than I estimated, and I took a look back. I met her eyes, and they gleamed in the dark. While I hated killing the people in front of us, she loved it.

  Then I swung my attention back as more came at us. I saw a flash of green in the woods, and I knew that the one in charge had shown himself. I aimed in that direction and sprayed with buckshot, even though he was about forty feet away. I didn’t really stand a chance of killing him, but I would settle for a wound, maybe a lucky eyeful of shot.

  “In the cabin,” she yelled, and I turned and hit the step. Then I reconsidered. If we went inside and more of the things arrived, we would be stuck, forced to defend four sides against them, because as soon as the windows broke, they would be on us. If the dead things weren’t driven by the ghoul, I was pretty sure we could disappear in the cabin and they would go away, not bothering to look inside.

  “Let’s get out of here, Katherine. Let’s get in the Honda and go!”

  She nodded. “Where are the keys?”

  “Kitchen. Right next to the stove in the big wooden bowl.”

  “Okay.”

  She dashed in through the open door, and I heard her stumble into something. Then something else fell over. I should have prepared a bug out kit, a backpack with weapons, food, ammo, but it just hadn’t seemed all that necessary. I saw at least five of them closing in on the cabin, but I was busy shoving shells into the shotgun.

  “Get me some more shot for the shotgun,” I yelled at the door. Rifle loaded, I put it to my shoulder and shot one of the things in the throat, which punched it backwards where it flopped to the ground. I jacked another shell in, lifted the gun, aimed carefully, and took one’s head off.

  The darkness was getting to me. The blasts of the gun stole my sight away each time. I didn’t have time to get used to the dark after I fired. I stayed at the foot of the stairs and waited patiently for Katherine. I heard her back into something else in her haste. We didn’t really put things anywhere with any logic, and I cursed the poor planning. Usually, I was much better at that kind of stuff, but I wasn’t seeing the future as brightly as I should have. I should have been better prepared. Should have, could have, and would have—no use in dwelling on mistakes.

  “I can’t see!” she yelled, and I heard things thrown about as she felt around in the dark. The gunshots had to have stolen her eyesight as well, and it would be a while before she had her night vision back. I’d have given about a million dollars for a pair of night vision goggles right about then.

  One was almost on me when I shot him in the chest. At least I think it was a he. The figure was just a blur in the dark. It moaned, deep and long. I spun to my right and dropped another one. Some of the shot went wide, taking one of the zombies behind this one in the leg. That zombie fell down and started crawling toward me.

  “Got ‘em!” she yelled. I wondered if she’d gotten more bullets or the keys or both. She came dashing out, just in time to drop one in her tracks. The zombie was dressed in bright orange sweats that made her stand out, even in the dark.

  Katherine handed me a box, and I hoped it was the shotgun shells. I dropped to a crouch, dumping the container on the ground. Big shells went everywhere, and I scooped them up, putting them in my pockets as fast as I could. She covered me, ejecting a magazine and slamming one home in one quick motion.

  “Let’s go, Erik!” She shot one of the things in the face. They were coming in force now. There was a trickle before, but now there were a lot more. I took off, her holding my hand and covering me as I ran for the car. There were a few ahead of us, but it seemed like most had been headed toward the cabin.

  A few more appeared as we ran in the dark, but for the most part, it was a clear path. We dodged a pair that stumbled past, and then I shot one in the face when he drifted in front of us from a section of the road.

  The Honda was just ahead. I could make out its shape as we ran. We put on a burst of speed. The car was soon surrounded by moving forms. We were in even deeper trouble. I raised the gun and shot one that was shambling in our direction, but, as I watched, more walked toward the vehicle, as if they were being driven. I glanced around from side to side and, sure enough, there was the green glow of that bastard. I wanted to peel away and run after him. Shoot him in the head and see if he could control anything with his brains all over the fucking forest.

  Katherine must have followed my focus, because she emptied the magazine in the thing’s direction, then slammed in a replacement just as quick as a whip. She had one hand on me, on my shoulder, so I was guiding us in the dark. I had to rely on the poor moonlight as I pounded over ground covered in gravel and bits of wood. One wrong move and we would be eating dirt.

  A shot rang out, and I felt Katherine stumble against me. She let out a cry. I slowed and turned to see if she had tripped on something, but she was holding her arm. In the moon’s faint glow, her eyes showed shock.

  “What happened?”

  “Shot! Someone fucking shot me!”

  “That’s not possible. Those things don’t use guns.”

  “Well, someone in the woods has my number, because I’ve been shot.” She groaned and stumbled against me.

  “Shit!” I ran ahead and fired off a few blasts, dropping zombies as they staggered toward me. The smell of gunshot and blood was heavy in the air. The undercurrent of pine and spruce couldn’t disguise it. I wondered if I would be smelling blood tonight in a more intimate way. My own blood, as my flesh was torn from my body.

  I hugged Katherine to me as I stumbled into the back of the SUV. The barrel of the gun clanged against the top of the vehicle. I had half a mind to dive in the back, grab the M249 and open up with it. I could take out dozens of them a
nd every tree in sight.

  A crash behind me told me they were in the cabin. Stuff smashed against the floor. They weren’t my things, but I still felt a sense of loss at the intrusion into our lives, into my new home.

  I groaned and maneuvered Katherine to the passenger side seat. One of the bastards came out of the dark, so I lifted one leg and kicked straight out, smashing the undead man in the chest with about two hundred pounds of pressure. The kick was under control, yet panic rode my body like a wave. I felt it cresting in my chest and threatening to bubble to the surface. I knew how to react to it, how to hone and form it into nothing but pure violence.

  I was around the car in a flash as she slammed the door shut. I heard the metal plate rattle from the motion, then more metal on metal as the gun nozzle was extended. She fired once, groaned, and then fired again. I was in the driver’s side seat in a pair of heartbeats, and I slammed the door in one of their faces. A man about my age, who was missing an eye and all of his teeth. From his gums hung strips of flesh that flapped when he opened and shut his mouth, making him look as if he chewed a piece of meat.

  I shivered at the dreadful image, then slammed the door open into his face. He fell back, and I slammed the door again. I could see Katherine clutching her shoulder with one hand as she grimaced and tried not to cry out in pain. I took the keys from my pocket and found the big Honda key with ease. It slid in, and I waited for the inevitable part of the movie where the car won’t start. It always happened when two people were in a vehicle and creatures were closing in, but this time we were greeted by the small but powerful engine kicking over. I hit the headlights and gasped at the mass of zombies in front of us.

  The front of the car was not covered by metal as the windows were, and I wondered if I would be able to make it through the dead. I counted three of them directly in front of the car and at least five or six more behind them.

  Pushing the panic down again, I directed my energy toward a cool and calm violence—something at which I was becoming very good. I eased the car forward until the bumper pushed into the first pair of monstrosities, then gave it some gas to nudge them. One spun away to the right, but the other went down in an uncoordinated mass of limbs. I drove over him, his body responding with a sickening crunch. I pressed on, one body at a time, until we had pushed aside or flattened all before us, but a quick glance in the rearview mirror revealed a couple of them in pursuit.