The Demon Dead

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The Demon Dead Page 14

by Arthur M Wyatt


  John stepped over to the hood of the truck, took the cap off the gallon of water and set the bottle down. Then he removed his shirt, leaned over and poured half the water over his head. With the newly acquired shampoo he proceeded to lather his hair and wash his face. When he was finished he used the rest of the water to rinse.

  “Damn that feels good,” he said.

  He took the comb out of his pocket and combed his hair then put his shirt back on.

  “My turn,” Amy said as she took more water from the truck and walked around to the hood. “Here, your turn to stand guard,” she said shoving the shotgun in John’s chest.

  “Jimmy, close your eyes,” she said taking off her shirt.

  John, without realizing it, was staring.

  “You too,” she told him.

  “I can’t, I’m standing guard,” he said smiling broadly.

  “Then turn around.”

  “Can’t win ‘em all,” ha said as he walked out in front of the truck to stand watch.

  After she finished they went back to work and filled the bed of the truck with everything they would need to live on for a month if they rationed it properly.

  “That should do it,” John said.

  “I need to go get a few things,” Amy said, “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Amy started for the pharmacy aisle to get her things. She filled a basket with the things she needed and took them back to the truck.

  “Woops,” She said.

  “What is it,” John asked.

  “I forgot something. It’s not really important but it would be nice to have. I have the main things I needed”

  “Alright but hurry up. We should be leaving. We’ve been here too long already.”

  Amy grabbed the basket and headed back to the pharmacy aisle.

  She was half way down the aisle when a figure stepped around the corner and stood at the far end. It was dark in the back of the store and she couldn’t tell which brand of zombie confronted her.

  “John,” she called, “you need to come here please.”

  He walked over to the broken window. “What’s up?”

  “Just come here please...now,” she shot back.

  John went back to the truck and told Jimmy to roll up the window, lock the door and stay put.

  “John,” she shouted again, more urgency in her voice.

  He ran to her and stopped. The zombie was at the end of the aisle but he couldn’t tell what kind it was.

  They looked at each other then back at the zombie.

  “How important is that thing you forgot?” John asked.

  “At this point, not very.”

  “Good. Maybe we should just back out slowly and leave.”

  “Right behind you,” she said.

  They started backing up. John with the shotgun at the ready and Amy with her pistol drawn.

  After backing up only a couple of steps the shelves on either side of the aisle began to shake violently.

  The goods began falling down and piling at their feet. In a panic their eyes darted around wildly. John looked up just in time to see the zombie running at them. He could see his face clearly now. It was definitely a demon and he was closing fast. John fired, pumped quickly and fired again. The demon’s head exploded. Splattering blood all over the tampons and maxi pads on the floor.

  “Oh the irony...” Amy said.

  He pumped another shell into the chamber as the demon fell at his feet.

  The shaking stopped as John and Amy stood back to back in the middle of the aisle.

  “What do we do now,” Amy asked breathing heavily.

  “We run,” John said calmly.

  They ran for the storefront, John in the lead. Just as they neared the end of the aisle one appeared in front of them. John dispatched him quickly with a blast from the shotgun as another dove at Amy from the top shelf. She saw the demon just in time to drop to the floor on her back and unload the 9mm into him as he went flying into a display of breakfast cereal. John took an un-aimed shot at it as it flew by. Getting back to her feet Amy joined him and they ran back to the truck. Amy jumped over the wall and tapped on the truck window.

  “Jimmy, open up buddy,” she said trying not to sound too alarmed.

  John stood at the back of the truck just inside the store.

  “John, lets go,” Amy said.

  “We’re going in a second. It’s still moving,” John said motioning toward the demon lying in the cereal boxes.

  Calmly John walked over to the demon and looked down. It was a bloody mess. While the head had been damaged in the shotgun blast it wasn’t enough to kill it.

  The demon turned to glare at John. Snarling like a rabid dog.

  “My god what are you?” he said looking at it with disgust.

  The demon looked back at John with hatred in it’s eyes.

  He wanted to put another shot into it’s head but what if this demon, this thing, whatever it was, was trapped inside and wanted out now that it was immobile. What if it wanted John to kill it? To set it free to posses another zombie.

  “Shit, just kill it,” he said out loud to himself.

  John stepped back and reloaded the shotgun from the shells in his pocket. Then he methodically blasted the things arms and legs to ensure it would stay put. The demon screamed at him in anger and with fire in its eyes. John turned and walked away. Feeling like he had exacted some revenge on this demon.

  He stopped by a fallen beer display on his way out and took two cases.

  Amy was standing by the back of the truck as he put them in.

  “What was all that about?” she asked.

  “Oh just a little irrational display on my part…I’ll explain it to you later,” he said, “get in, we have to go.”

  They got back in the truck and headed out again. They were only a couple of miles from Patriots Point. John turned left off the main road just before the bridge and onto a side road that led directly there. He slowed as they neared a Hotel and pulled into the parking lot.

  “Why are we stopping?” Amy asked.

  John pulled into the unloading area in front of the hotel and stopped. Twelve bodies were stacked like firewood by the front door.

  “Oh God,” Amy said. “Look. Just like we saw before. Why would they do that?”

  “Maybe there isn’t a reason,” John said. “And there’s that smell again. God that stinks.”

  “Ooh,” she said pulling her shirt up to cover her nose. “I’ve gotten used to the smell of rotting corpses but this… this is worse.”

  “Look at their heads,” John said. “ Looks like someone beat them with a baseball bat.”

  “You mean something…”

  The hotel looked to be in good shape except for the sliding glass doors at the entrance. The glass was broken and both doors were jammed open. A bench that looked like it had been thrown through the glass lay on its side just inside the lobby.

  John sighed. “Just before Susan and I first moved into our house, last summer, we had a two week gap between moving out of our apartment and when our house would be ready so we stayed here. It was nice. We decide to treat it like a vacation. Took time off from work and spent it doing the whole tourist thing. We went on the harbor tour, took carriage rides, the aquarium, spent time on the beach at Isle of Palms, partying downtown, the whole works. We had a blast.”

  “I’m sorry John, I know it’s tough.”

  “It was a happy time. Those memories are all that’s left. She’s gone and I knew it before today. Somehow I knew. But, I think of things like our stay here and smile. I’m thankful for the time we had together. There are very few regrets. I’m at peace with that. I guess seeing all the death we’ve seen since this started kind of took the shock value out of it. I feel guilty because there really is no grieving period. I feel like she’s been dead for a year. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yeah John, I do,” she said, “it’s the same thing wit
h my family. I know they are probably dead but I have hope. If I didn’t I may not be able to go on. I guess I’m in denial but until I know for sure I have to keep the faith,” she leaned over and kissed John on the cheek.

  The moment was shattered by the sound of breaking glass. They looked up to see a chair come flying through the glass of the first window to the right of the entrance. John started to pull away but stopped.

  Climbing through the hole in the window was a tall stocky African American man with dread locks.

  John recognized him as the night front desk clerk that worked at the hotel when he stayed there last year.

  The man ran the fifteen yards to the truck in a couple of seconds.

  John jumped out shotgun in hand.

  “Stop right there,” he said.

  “Hey dude I’m not a zombie. Listen man, we got to get out of here.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes I’m alone. Everybody else is dead. We have to leave. Trust me dude, we have to leave now. They’ll be down here any second.”

  “Who?” John asked.

  “Zombies man, monsters, they’re coming. For God’s sake we got to go,” he was becoming more alarmed by the second. He looked at Amy, then at John, then back to Amy. “What happened to your face?” he asked her.

  “It wasn’t him,” she said nodding at John. “I was attacked by two piece of shit red neck thugs. John saved me.”

  He eyed John closely. “You sure?” he said looking back at Amy.

  “Yeah she’s sure,” John answered for her. “Hey I thought we needed to go.”

  Suddenly a guttural scream emanated from within the Hotel and the sound of the stairwell doors being shoved open and hitting the wall rang through the Hotel’s interior. The sound echoed through the lobby and out into the parking lot.

  “Jump in the back,” John said knowing immediately when he heard the scream that they were dealing with demons.

  The man climbed into the back of the truck as John got back in and gunned the engine. The truck protested as the clutch slipped.

  Looking up in the rear view mirror John saw what Derek was talking about.

  “Was that what I think it was?” Amy asked.

  “Yep, take a look,” John said pointing into the mirror.

  Amy turned around to look out. Coming out of the hotel were four demons at a dead run.

  “Oh my God, can you go faster?” she said.

  “Not if I want to keep everything in the back, including our passenger, from flying out.”

  The demons were cutting across the Hotel parking lot trying to cut off the truck. John had to go the long way to get back to the road because the curb was too high to drive over.

  “Go go go,” Amy screamed.

  John ignored her and concentrated on driving. Amy leveled the shotgun and fired at their pursuers. She was sure she hit one when she saw it stumble.

  John took the turn out of the parking lot so fast it felt like the truck was going to turn over. The truck’s tires squealed as some of the things in the truck bed flew out. Ducking down as low as he could, the hotel clerk held on for dear life.

  Looking in the mirror John saw that the demons had chased them out into the road then stopped. John drove another hundred yards, stopped the truck and got out.

  “What the hell are you doing now,” Amy said, obviously irritated.

  “Just hand me the hunting rifle,” John shot back.

  He took the hunting rifle and went to the back of the truck.

  “John Beckham,” he said sticking his hand out to the Hotel clerk, “that’s Amy and Jimmy in the truck.”

  “Derek Johnson. Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

  “Yep, just need to send a little message to the demons.”

  “The what?”

  “Demons. I’ll explain it later.”

  John propped the rifle on the side of the truck and took aim. The demons had started running down the road toward them again.

  John breathed deeply, exhaled, held for a second, then pulled the trigger. One of the four demons dropped to the ground. John worked the bolt action as the other three scrambled for cover. He fired again but missed as the three demons left ducked and disappeared into the brush and trees on the side of the road.

  The significance of that wasn’t lost on John. This was the first time he had seen them take deliberate action to try and save themselves. Up to this point self preservation hadn’t seem to be a priority for these guys. What if they were evolving? The thought made him shudder.

  Turning to look at Derek, John said, “Can you shoot?”

  “Hell yeah I can shoot,” Derek said, “I mean, I'm an expert with an M-16 at 300 yards. US Army 2000 to 2004.”

  “No shit,” John said, “I was in the military myself. Where were you?”

  “Fort Hood Texas. Tank driver,” he answered. “Afghanistan and Operation Iraqi Freedom. Processed out right after I got back from Iraq.”

  “M-1 Abrams?”

  “Yep but it was called a Combat Engineer Vehicle. CEV. Bulldozer blade, short cannon.”

  “See any action?”

  “Dude… how do you think they got past those obstacles to get into Bagdad?” Derek said, “I blew them up. Took out a couple of bad guys in the process too.”

  “Good deal,” John handed him the rifle.

  “Bolt action with a scope,” Derek commented admiring the Remington.

  “Don’t get no easier than that.

  “Hey…guys. Let’s save the war stories for later. I really have to pee,” Amy shouted from the cab of the truck.

  John reached into the truck, took the 38 revolver from the dash and handed it to Derek.

  “Stick this in your pocket. I’ll give you more rounds for it when we get to where we’re going.”

  “And where’s that?” Derek asked.

  “The marina at the point. We’re going to Fort Sumter if we can find a boat to get us there.”

  “I can help you there,” Derek said. “Worked on a charter fishing boat when I was teenager. And I get to drive one from time to time on the weekends.”

  “Great, that’s good to know.”

  John climbed back into the truck. Derek put the pistol in his belt and propped himself up against the cab. Rifle at the ready.

  A couple of hundred yards down the road, on the corner at the red light, was the local TV station. As they drove by John was surprised to see a news helicopter.

  “Look,” John said pointing to the news chopper tied down on the helicopter pad in front of the station. “Lets check it out.”

  He turned into the parking lot of the station and pulled up beside it.

  “What do you know about helicopters,” Amy asked.

  “I flew them in the Navy. Not this kind but a helicopter just the same.”

  John got out of the truck, told Derek to keep a watch out and walked over, opened the door on the helicopter and sat down. He studied the instrument panel. It all looked very familiar.

  “Can you fly it,” Amy asked.

  “I think so,” he said flipping switches.

  The panel lit up and the gauges came to life. John was pleased to see the fuel tanks were almost full and everything seemed to be in working order.

  “Are we going to take it?

  “No. Besides, where are we going to go? It would suck to be killed in a helicopter crash on a trip to nowhere,” he said with a nervous laugh.

  “We don’t want to take it to the fort because the conditions out there may not be good for it. Besides if we broke down we would be stuck. I think our present plan is the best and safest thing to do right now.”

  “That makes sense,” she said.

  No sooner were those words out of her mouth when they heard a shot form Derek’s rifle.

  They jumped out of the helicopter pulling their handguns out as they ran back to the truck.

  “Derek, what is it?” John asked.

  Derek still had his eye to the rifle’s scope scanning t
he tree line on the far side of the road.

  Without looking up he said. “Over there. They’re watching us. I got off a shot at one of them but it was behind a tree. I don’t think I hit it. The more I think about it the more I like your idea about going out on an island. Hopefully they can’t swim.”

  “Keep watching I’m going to close up this bird and we’ll get going. It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. I want to be at the fort before then.”

  John walked over and closed up the helicopter. He ran his hand along the smooth skin of the fuselage as he traced it back to the tail rotor. This sure was a nice bird. The thought of flying up above this hell out of reach to anything on the ground was very appealing.

  “I’m still hungry,” Jimmy said as John got back to the truck.

  John reached into one of the bags in the back of the truck and handed him a pack of cheese crackers and a bottle of water.

  “When we get to the Fort we’ll get some real food ok,” he told him.

  Jimmy nodded and tore open the crackers.

  "Hey, Derek, keep your eye on that tree line, we have to go right by it to get out of here."

  "No problem," Derek answered.

  "Ok, get in." John said to Amy.

  "Wait a minute, I still have to pee."

  John heard Jimmy chuckling in the truck. Amy took a roll of toilet paper and went around to the other side of the helicopter. She returned after a couple of minutes.

  "Much better," she said as she sat down in the truck.

  John tossed her the waterless hand cleaner. “Just because it’s the end of the world...”

  Amy smiled.

  John started the truck and they made their way back to the road.

  "Looks like it's all clear," Derek said as he scanned the road ahead.

  John said nothing but kept driving. In the passenger's seat Amy had her pistol ready just in case.

  John turned onto the road and made it the one hundred yards to the red light with no problem. He pulled into the intersection and stopped.

  "What are you stopping for?" Jimmy asked, his mouth full of crackers.

  "Just taking a look," John said.

  To the right cars were scattered haphazardly in the road. It looked like the drivers had jumped out with the cars still going. The road leading up to the span over the river looked like a demolition derby. Wrecked cars and bloated bodies lay scattered everywhere. It was strange to see all these cars on the street considering how early in the morning all this started. Some people must have panicked and tried to leave town John thought. Zombies stumbled about here and there.

 

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