by Jon Schafer
Sean saw her coming at him and grabbed the pistol first. Unfamiliar with firearms, he nonetheless knew enough to point it and pull the trigger.
The bullet caught Mary almost point blank in the upper stomach, doubling her over and knocking the wind from her with a whooshing noise. A fine spray of blood flew out from behind her as the bullet exited her back. She stood there, half in and half out of the passenger side door, until Sean reached out with the pistol and put it against her head. He wanted to pull the trigger again, but instead, shoved his hand forward. Using the barrel he pushed her out of the minivan.
He looked around in panic and saw that his actions hadn’t gone unnoticed. Sheila began heading toward him at a run from behind. To his front, he saw that the dead thing on the hood of the truck had spun around at the noise of the pistol firing. It was Steve. With a start, Sean realized that the man hadn’t been eaten, and in an instant he knew that it didn’t matter. After what he’d just done, they would kill him no matter what.
Sean dropped the handgun and shifted the minivan into drive. He spun the steering wheel to his right and stomped down on the gas pedal. The vehicle lurched forward just as Sheila grabbed onto the open passenger door. He reached down to grab the pistol again but saw that she wasn’t a threat. It was all the woman could do to hang on as her feet dragged along the ground.
Turning his attention to the front, he could see the gate and the dead pushed up against it. Brain jumped out of his way as he swerved back onto the gravel drive and felt the minivan bounce as it ran over the car battery. Bullets hit the side of the vehicle as he swerved, trying to make himself a more difficult target. Sean was rocking back and forth in his seat, trying to urge the minivan to go faster. It was moving at forty-five miles an hour when it hit the gate.
With a bang, the chains and locks parted and the wrought iron twisted outward, pushing the first line of Z’s out of the way. Sean gave a whoop of joy that caught in his throat when he ran into the rest of the dead beyond them. The minivan slowed and then stopped within twenty feet of the gate as it hit dead flesh that was pushed beneath it and caught in the wheels and undercarriage. Sheila was first slammed between the passenger door and its frame by the impact with the dead, and an instant later she was pulled away by dozens of reanimated corpses.
With her hands free, now that she wasn’t holding on for her life, Sean saw that she had pulled her pistol and was shooting into the wall of reanimated flesh that fell on her with gnashing teeth. He lost sight of her when a large group of the dead circled around her. The gunshots stopped and were suddenly replaced by screams of pain and terror as she was torn apart.
The side sliding door had been left open in case they had to run, so the dead flooded into the passenger compartment. They bit and tore at their helpless victims, dragging some of them out of the van where they were ripped to pieces, while the rest were killed and eaten where they sat, still restrained by their seatbelts.
Sean’s last sight was of dirty hands reaching in through the passenger side door to dig into his face and body before dragging him to their dead mouths.
***
Steve jumped at the sound of the gunshot. He turned to locate where it came from and saw Mary fall away from the side of the minivan and land sprawled out on her back in the grass. He could clearly see the blood that covered her midsection gleaming in the sun. Before he could react, the minivan jumped forward and sped past him as it headed for the gate. He raised his rifle but couldn’t get a clear shot at the driver. Seeing Sheila clinging to the passenger side door as her toes dug furrows in the dirt and grass, he aimed low, raking the side of the vehicle with high velocity rounds as he emptied his magazine.
The minivan started swerving to avoid his bullets, and he could see Sheila being thrown around like a rag doll. He knew that there was no stopping the vehicle, so he yelled for everyone to run for the house just as Sean hit the gate with a resounding bang. Steve called out to Brain to blow the dynamite and could see that the tech was trying to right the smashed battery. Knowing it was no use, he yelled again for everyone to retreat to the mansion as he called out for Brain to run.
Steve lifted his rifle to cover the tech, and then squeezed the trigger at the first of the dead flooding into the compound.
***
Brain ignored the sting of acid on the cuts he’d received from jumping and sliding on the gravel of the road in an attempt to get out of Sean’s way. He lifted the battery as his eyes searched for the wires leading to the dynamite. The minivan had scattered everything when it almost ran him over, so the leads were now twisted and driven into the gravel of the road.
Grabbing the first red and a black wire in sight, he pushed them against the positive and negative anodes on the battery as he scrunched his head down in expectation of the impending explosion.
Nothing.
Hoping the smashed battery still held enough of a charge; he grabbed another black wire and pushed it against the negative post.
Nothing.
He could see a few the dead coming toward him, falling from bullets that exploded their heads in sprays of bone and black puss, but it barely stemmed their flood. Brain knew he had only seconds before he had to turn and run, so he brushed his hands back and forth over the surface of the road. Something poked his forefinger and he dug out a blue-coated wire. In a panic, he tried to recall how all the bundles of dynamite were wired but couldn’t remember. Trying the negative first, he had to switch the red, black and blue wires three times before he hit the right combination.
The concussion of the blast threw him back from where he was crouched and sent a shockwave out from its epicenter that flattened everything within a hundred foot radius. Dead flesh and body parts flew up into the air and outward in a spray of black puss and dirt. The explosion was so powerful; it even knocked down the dead that were already through the gate.
His ears ringing, Brain righted himself and began searching for another wire. Finding a red one, he was getting ready to try it when he looked up and saw a dead thing, dressed in meter reader’s uniform, lunging at him with a gaping mouth. His focus fixed in on its rotting, brown teeth only feet from his face, and his mind flashed back to when a zombie had attacked him on the Dead Calm. As he tried to get his foot up to push it away, he knew it was no use. The Z was too close.
Falling back as his hand dropped to the .45 holstered at his hip, Brain already knew it was hopeless. He resigned himself to the fact that he would have to take the bite and then kill the dead thing before turning the weapon on himself. He pulled his pistol and had it half way up when the Z’s mouth was only inches from his face.
To his surprise, an arm zoomed in from his right, coming between the gapping maw heading toward him and the fragile flesh of his face. The Z latched onto it for a few seconds and shook its head like a dog worrying a bone before its head exploded in a spray of black skull and brains.
His ears still ringing from the dynamite blast and the pistol being fired only inches from his head, he barely heard Tick-Tick say, “I got him, Pork Chop, now get up and haul ass.”
Looking at his friend, he said in horror, “You got bit!”
Tick-Tock fired his pistol at the few Z’s who had managed to get to their feet then pulled back the sleeve of his shirt revealing the chainmail that covered his arm. “Always use protection,” he said with a laugh as he grabbed his friend’s hand and hoisted him to his feet.
Brain’s first thought when he looked at the gate was to try and close it. He changed his mind when he saw the hundreds of dead who had already come through it getting to their feet and heading his way. Instead, he turned and ran for the mansion.
***
Heather dragged Mary by the collar up the stairs and into the house before lifting her onto a couch near the entryway. She ran back and ushered Igor, Linda, Denise and Cindy through the door then turned her attention to the living, and the dead. She could see Tick-Tock and Brain running toward her with a large group of them on their heels. Standin
g on the porch, she was at a raised elevation that let her lay down covering fire over their heads as her friends sprinted for safety. After emptying the magazine on her CAR-15, she switched it out and looked for the rest of their people. She could see Steve pulling the last of the others from the minivan and shoving them in her direction before he turned to yell for Pep. The dog was going crazy as she raced around and snarled at the dead.
Connie appeared next to her with a rifle in her hands and started firing at the Z’s still flooding through the gate. Heather could see it was no use trying to stem the flow and yelled at her to focus on the dead that were heading toward Steve. In a blur, Tick-Tock and Brain raced up the steps and slid to a stop before they turned and began firing at the walking corpses coming up behind them. Heather saw that Steve had finally managed to grab Pep by the collar and was pulling her with him as he headed for the door. The dead that had been after Tick-Tock and Brain now turned their attention to him, so she called out for everyone to lay down covering fire. Raising her rifle, she emptied two magazines in the time it took him to reach the stairs that led up to the porch.
“Inside,” Steve yelled as he dragged the twisting and snarling dog through the door.
Risking one last look to see if they could somehow salvage the situation and regain the compound, Heather took in the hundreds of dead that had flooded through the gate and were now coming at her in a loping run. Beyond them were even more.
It was utterly hopeless.
The closest of the dead were only feet from the porch of the mansion when she slammed the door shut and locked it behind her. Tick-Tock and Steve half pushed her out of the way as they slapped wooden planks over their only weak point and started nailing them in place. With the storm panels in place all around the first floor, their only light came from the flashlights held by Connie and Denise.
The sound of dozens of dead bodies hitting the door and clawing at it as they whined and screeched drowned out the screams of the others as the last of them raced up the stairs. Made of solid oak, the entry didn’t even bend against the onslaught of Z’s.
Heather handed Steve the last 2x4 and watched as he hammered it in place.
Taking a step back to observe his work, he said, “If that doesn’t hold them, nothing will.”
The door had a variety of 2x4s and 2x6s covering it in a solid screen from the floor to the top of the jamb. Tick-Tock was still pounding in nails as he sought out any weak areas while Denise stood back and pointed them out to him with her light.
Now that they were secure, Steve turned his attention to Mary and rushed to where she was laid out on the couch. He found Grimm bending over her and asked, “How bad?”
“Bad,” was her only reply.
Unable to access Mary’s condition in the dim light, Steve called for Connie to bring her flashlight. He hoped it wasn’t as bad as it looked but his heart dropped when he saw the damage that Sean’s bullet had done.
Blood had soaked into the couch and spread out in a large stain from the exit wound in her back. It ran over the cushions then dripped onto the floor. The front of Mary’s shirt was covered in red and he could see that her breathing was labored. A large black mark with a hole in the middle was visible where the muzzle flash had scorched it when the bullet was fired into her. He saw a small pulse of blood surge out with every beat of her heart.
Not having a clue on how to deal with something like this, Steve took a step back as he ran his hands through his hair. Mary needed a surgeon and a hospital or she would die. Weakness flooded his body at his inability to do anything and his knees felt shaky at the knowledge that she was as good as dead.
Pulling himself together, he knew he had to do something no matter how futile it was.
He turned to Grimm, saying urgently, “I need knives, small knives. They have to be sharp. I also need a needle and thread and a turkey-baster. Get everything and boil it in water.” To Heather, he called out, “And I need bandages and gauze from the medical kit. Bring me some scissors too.”
No one moved, so Steve barked out, “NOW.”
As they ran to do his bidding, from behind him he heard Connie ask, “Can you save her?”
Steve could only shake his head as he rolled Mary onto her side and looked at the exit wound. Seeing that the bullet had missed her spine, he hoped for the best when Heather returned with a small first aid kit. After cutting off Mary’s shirt, he pressed a gauze pad against the ragged hole in her back. Thankful that she was unconscious, he taped the bandage in place before shaking the blood off his hands and rolling her onto her back.
The lights turned on as the generator sent a surge of electricity through the wires, which let him know that Grimm had fired it up to get the stove going in order to boil his makeshift surgical tools. Steve called out that he needed light and ordered that all the lamps be brought over and their shades taken off.
The noise of the dead pounding and clawing at the storm panels distracted him for a moment, and he shouted for Tick-Tock to get up on the roof and give him an assessment of their position. Denise told him that he’d already gone to do that, so Steve turned his attention back to Mary.
From the slight rise and fall of her chest, he could see that she was still alive. His only question was for how long. He had no idea what he was going to do beyond trying to open the wound and sew up any major blood vessels that were bleeding. Beyond that, he was completely clueless. His stomach sank as he remembered all the different medical shows he’d seen and books he’d read. In all of them, they had blood pressure cuffs, respirators, suction and anesthesia. He asked himself what he would do if she came to in the middle of the operation and had no answer.
As he looked back down at Mary, he was suddenly saddened and yet relieved to see that her mouth hung open, and her eyes were glazed over in death. He thought about doing CPR, but decided against it. In reality, he knew that she was through the minute the bullet had pierced her skin. What would be the sense in reviving her only to have her die later, maybe even conscious and in pain?
Steve reached for an afghan that was spread across the back of the couch. He pulled it down, shook it out, and used it to cover her body.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Happy Hallow Insane Asylum:
Steve heard the hissing and whining of the dead even before he climbed through the ceiling of the radio room and into the attic space. The noise seemed to dig through to the center of his brain like a diseased worm as he hoisted himself through the roof hatch. It caused him to shake his head, trying to rid it of the buzzing it produced in his ears. He looked over at Tick-Tock sitting on the ridge of the roof, sighting in on something with his rifle, the sudden report of the weapon made him jump.
Tick-Tock lowered his M4 to switch out magazines and saw him. “How’s Mary?” He asked.
Steve didn’t expect to see the sadness that crossed his friend’s face when he said, “She didn’t make it.”
Lowering his head and shaking it back and forth, Tick-Tock muttered, “Too bad, she was finally stepping up.”
Not wanting his failure to save Mary show on his face, Steve turned and carefully made his way to the edge of the roof.
Tick-Tock was too receptive of what his friend was going through to miss this and said, “You did everything you could. Don’t let it eat at you.”
Ignoring this, Steve looked down and did a double take at the number of dead that were clustered against the east wall of the mansion. Mary’s death was pushed from his mind at the sight of hundreds of Z’s clawing at the side of the house.
He turned to Tick-Tock and asked, “Is it like this all around us?”
Tick-Tock stood and said, “As Chesty Puller once told his men, ‘We're surrounded - that simplifies our problem’.”
“Completely surrounded?” Steve asked.
“It’s worse on the south side,” he replied. “That’s where they hit us first, so they’re kind of bunched up there. Give them some time and I’m sure they’ll spread out.”
>
Steve spent a few minutes counting heads then stopped when he hit over three hundred and said, “We should be able to take them out. We get everyone up here that can shoot and fire down on the ones on the south side until we’ve thinned them out. At least it’ll be easier to make head shots from up here. We can clear them from around the cars and then make a break for it.”
He backed away from the edge of the roof and focused on the horizon to look beyond the gruesome sight below him. He was about to add that they should get someone to attract as many of the dead to the opposite side of the house before they ran for it when his words suddenly died in his throat.
Tick-Tock followed his gaze to where the dust cloud being kicked up by tens of thousands of dead feet was moving in their direction.
Watch for:
DEAD END; The final book of The Dead Series
Table of Contents
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
