by Chelsea Luna
“You want us to start hammering? Now?” Cage asked.
“It’ll be too loud,” Rachel whispered. “We can’t attract attention to ourselves.”
“It’s going to be like squeezing toothpaste through a tube when hundreds of those things come down that road,” Nicky said.
“What?” Adam turned to him in the darkness.
Nicky motioned to the door. “That wood couldn’t hold the force of ten zombies banging on it. Let alone a freakin’ army!”
“We can’t let them know we’re in here,” Rachel said. “We have to be quiet and hope they pass by.”
“What if they break in?” Nicky asked.
“Then we’ll run,” Adam said.
“Where are they headed?” Monica bit her bottom lip.
“They’re searching for their next meal,” Dean whispered.
“Move the chairs and tables against the doors and windows,” Adam said. “But quietly.”
Rachel stacked a chair in front of the window. She smashed her hands against her ears to drown out the incessant growling. She couldn’t think. The sound was maddening.
Soon, with the snarls and howls came the shuffling of dead feet—a scraping, dragging sound that made goose bumps ripple over Rachel’s skin.
Adam placed his lips to her ear. “Be ready to run. I’ll grab Finn. Dean will take care of Monica, but I need you to look out for Lindsay. Nicky’s arm is still busted up.”
Rachel nodded, but running wouldn’t be an option. If they needed to run, that meant the zombies had broken down the door. Where would they run? The saloon didn’t have a back door and that narrow road running through this shit-hole tourist town would be jam-packed with the walking dead. They’d die in minutes.
Adam turned her around. She could barely see him in the darkness. He cradled her face before he kissed her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
Nicky shook his head. “Don’t say I love you! That means we’re going to die!”
“Back away from the windows,” Adam said. “They’re coming.”
The group huddled on the floor in front of the bar. Adam sat next to Rachel and held her hand. She threw her other arm around Finn. The snarling came from every direction. Would they tear the building down with their sheer numbers?
Lindsay was crying, but Nicky kept her quiet. No one moved. Everyone was too afraid of making any noise. Rachel slowed her breathing, but her heartbeat banged against her chest.
The zombies’ dragging feet became hollowed—louder—as they shuffled across the buildings’ wooden porches. The first flicker of movement in the window crack appeared and illuminated the zombies’ shadows.
Finn went stiff. Rachel pulled him under her arm. Everyone tensed as the wave hit and the zombies filled the road. The growling was thunderous. Limbs banged against the walls as they shuffled by the saloon. The flicker of light from the passing shadows ceased—there were so many of them that they filled the void.
Rachel covered Finn’s ears. She hummed a song in her head to block out the snarling and growling.
A different bang reverberated outside the saloon. It wasn’t the passing of limbs brushing against the walls—this sound was different. It was a calculated bang—one of them was trying to get into the saloon. How long before the others noticed? Could the zombies smell them?
“Nicky,” Adam whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you could split a hole in the wall with your axe?”
“It’ll be easier than breaking through those chains at Ford Field.”
“If more come to the door, then we’ll need a way out the back,” Adam said.
Nicky sighed. “All right. Tell me when.”
Adam gathered Rachel. She placed her head against his chest and concentrated on the beating of his heart.
Shadows flickered in the cracks in the window. The lone banger pounded on the door.
“One minute,” Monica whispered.
“What?” Rachel asked.
“It’s been one minute since the first zombie passed the door.”
“Jeez,” Nicky whispered.
“If that horde comes across a real town, it’s going to obliterate any survivors,” Cage said.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Adam said.
The snarling and dragging feet meshed into one terrible drone of awful. Rachel covered Finn’s ears, but she couldn’t block out the sound. Zombies’ growls echoed off the mountains.
The banging at the door intensified.
“Four minutes, thirty-seven seconds.” Monica stared at her watch. “Are they still coming?”
Nicky crawled to the window and peeked out the crack. “Not as many as before, but there’s still a crap-load of them out there. There’s a group gathered at the door.”
The top of the door splintered. The crack fragmented across the wooden plank like a fault line. The sound of splitting wood sent chills down Rachel’s back.
“Get back,” Adam whispered.
Nicky moved away from the window.
The zombies pounded until the fracture widened. A gnarled hand thrust through the door.
“Call it, Adam.” Nicky stood with his axe.
Adam corralled everyone to the back of the room. “How many were still on the street?”
“Forty or fifty, from what I could see. Probably more.”
“How many bullets do we have?” Rachel asked. It was a dumb question—however many they had, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
“The pack of bullets I gave you had twenty for your two handguns,” Dean said. “My AK-47 is out.”
“Out?” Nicky slapped his forehead. “Are you kidding me, dude? We need that gun now. We could blast those suckers Rambo-style.”
Dean shrugged. “It’s been out for days.”
An arm shoved through the door. The jagged wood sliced open the zombie’s forearm. Blood oozed from the decayed skin.
“We need to go,” Adam said. “I’ll cut through quietly. I don’t want any zombies coming around back.”
More zombies hammered against the splintering door. A second hand smashed through.
“Give Dean the other gun,” Cage said. “Unless Rachel wants it.”
Rachel shook her head. “I do better with my bat.”
“What if the horde comes back?” Lindsay chewed her thumbnail. “There were hundreds of them—what if they turn back? We can’t go out there. What’s our plan?”
“Run for the van,” Adam said. “We’ll leave the Mustang. Hopefully, the road is clear enough now that we can drive back out of here.”
“Hopefully?” Lindsay balked. “That’s our plan? Hopefully?”
“Do you have a better one?” Rachel asked. “I didn’t think so. Keep a lid on it unless you have something helpful to add.”
“Don’t tell me—”
“Not now, Linds,” Nicky said gently.
The top plank groaned and tumbled to the floor. Dozens of ice-blue eyes fell on them. Jaws snapped in feverish growls.
“Nicky, give me your axe.” Adam held out his hand.
“You better start chopping like a lumber jack,” Nicky said. “We’re out of time.”
Adam hacked the wall. Splinters and chunks of wood flew in all directions. How thick was the wood?
“That’s not very quiet,” Lindsay said.
“They already know we’re in here, Linds,” Cage said.
The group at the door had grown—they now stood three zombies deep, clawing over each other to get through the fracturing door.
“Who has the keys?” Rachel checked everyone’s shoelaces. They’d have to sprint to the van.
“Here.” Adam tossed them to Rachel.
Adam chopped at the wood until a hole formed in the wall, but the hole at the front door was getting bigger, quicker. The front zombie climbed through the hole—half of his torso hung into the saloon.
“Someone get him!” Lindsay screamed.
; Cage struck the zombie in the head with his tire iron, and its body spilled to the floor. “We’re drawing a crowd out here.”
Adam slammed the axe into the wall. “Nicky, help me.”
Dean, Nicky and Adam pulled the planks back until the hole was big enough to crawl through. Rachel dropped to her knees and stuck out her head. “I don’t see any of them, but it’s dark.”
The wooden planks covering the door gave way to the pressure. Zombies poured into the room.
“Go!” Adam yelled.
Rachel crawled through the hole and stumbled to the dirt. She scrambled to her feet and checked the surrounding area behind the saloon. Five zombies stood at the end of the row of buildings. Their moans turned to shrieks when they saw Rachel.
“Hurry, guys!” Rachel helped Finn through.
The commotion from the saloon grew louder as more zombies broke through the shattered door. Lindsay was next, followed by Monica and Nicky.
A sharp growl filled Rachel’s ear. She spun around—two fast movers were on them. She kicked back the first one and swung at the other. “Finn, stay behind me.”
Three zombies rounded the saloon’s corner.
Crap.
“Tell them to hurry! We’re attracting a crowd!” Rachel knocked over a bloodied teen and then helped Nicky with an old man who’d breached their protective circle.
Adam tumbled through the hole. “Go!”
Rachel obliterated a zombie’s skull before grabbing Finn’s hand. “Stay beside me. Whatever happens, don’t leave my sight.”
More zombies rounded the building. At least a handful of them were fast movers.
“Run!” Cage yelled.
They raced along the back of the saloon, but Adam stopped once they reached the corner. He peeked around. “Shit! Back the other way!”
“What? To where?” Nicky screamed.
“To the woods!”
Rachel waited for the others to follow Adam. She peered around the corner of the saloon and saw the van—it was so close, but it was surrounded by at least thirty zombies.
And now the thirty zombies were after them.
Chapter Eleven
They were going to die.
Nicky dragged Lindsay by the arm. She was breathing heavily—heck, he was too—but they couldn’t slow down. The pack was gaining on them.
Lindsay covered her ears with her free hand. “I can’t take the growling.”
“Run, Lindsay!”
“We need to head back to the van,” Rachel yelled. “Circle around!”
They rounded a cluster of trees and headed back toward town. Moonlight lit their path and the night air was unseasonably chilly. The ground sloped downward and Monica stumbled beside Nicky, falling to her knees.
“Up, up, up,” Nicky said.
“My ankle!” Monica grabbed her foot.
Dean shoved the butt of his AK-47 into a zombie’s mouth.
Lindsay screamed.
Nicky turned to see what was wrong—Adam, Cage, Rachel and Finn hadn’t noticed Monica’s fall. They’d never stopped running.
More zombies had come from the main street and now stood in between them.
Their group was split.
~ ~ ~
“Go to the left of the buildings and down to the main street,” Adam said. “That might buy us a few minutes to get inside the van.”
“Crap!” Cage yelled. “We lost them!”
“What?” Rachel’s blonde hair whipped around.
Adam turned. Nicky, Lindsay, Monica and Dean were twenty yards away on the slope. They ran parallel to the row of buildings, but they were moving slowly. Too slowly. Monica limped in Dean’s and Nicky’s arms.
Twenty zombies stood in between them and their friends.
“How in the hell did that happen?” Adam yelled. “Cage—watch out!”
A runner dove at Cage and wrapped his arms around his legs. The zombie tackled Cage to the ground. The creature reared its head back like a cobra about to strike.
“Cage!” Adam snatched the zombie by the neck. He slipped his arm under its throat and peeled the zombie off Cage. Claws flung backward, but Adam dodged away in time. He flipped the zombie over and mounted it, but before he could grab his pipe, the end of the bat smashed into the zombie’s face.
“Get up, you two, hurry!” Rachel yanked the bat from the smashed skull. “Crap—what are they doing?”
Adam glanced over. The others were no longer running, but climbing.
Climbing a tree surrounded by twenty zombies.
~ ~ ~
Nicky swung his axe at a zombie’s neck. Lindsay and Dean were already halfway up the tree. Monica struggled on the branch near him. Nicky swung again before scaling the evergreen. This was such a terrible idea, but they couldn’t outrun the pack with Monica’s injured ankle.
Nicky placed one foot on the branch and climbed. Pain shot through his injured shoulder, but he didn’t care—there were too many deadheads below.
“Hurry!” Dean yelled.
Monica was having trouble pulling herself up. She screamed.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asked.
“They’ve got me!”
Nicky maneuvered around the tree. A zombie had Monica’s ankle and was pulling her down. Dammit. Nicky edged over to the nearest branch and swung his axe, but it wouldn’t reach the zombie.
The tree swayed as the pack rammed against the trunk—how much longer would the tree hold up?
Monica gripped the branch. “I can’t free my foot.”
“It’s okay,” Nicky said. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.” He shimmied down to a lower branch. Zombies clawed at the trunk, falling on top of each other to reach Monica.
Nicky scooted farther out and prayed the branch would support his weight. The ground below spun. He exhaled and then hooked his legs around the tree so he hung upside down. The zombie had a firm grip around Monica’s ankle. Nicky choked up on his axe and sliced at the zombie’s wrist.
Claws stretched for Nicky as he sawed the zombie’s hand. Blood rushed to his head. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. He cut through the bone, finally detaching the hand from the rest of the body.
“There,” Nicky said, but the hand stayed attached to Monica’s leg. “Persistent fellow.”
“Get it off!”
He peeled the fingers away from Monica’s ankle until the appendage tumbled into the crowd of zombies below.
Nicky cursed under his breath when he saw the bright red zombie’s scratch across Monica’s ankle.
~ ~ ~
“Why are they climbing a tree?” Rachel ran around the last building and stopped before she entered the street. They didn’t know how many zombies were on the road. They couldn’t stop for long—another group had already rounded the corner.
“Go!” Adam yelled. “We need to get to the van!”
“And do what?” Cage said.
They raced into the street.
Rachel could hardly believe the wreckage—the horde had cut a path of destruction through the town. The grass was trodden. Splatters of blood covered the dirt road, along with articles of random clothing—shoes, shirts and a green nameplate from the top of a stop sign. Signs on the wooden porch were trampled to splinters.
Despite the destruction, only a few of the dead straggled down the street.
They sprinted down to the end of the road where the van was parked near the saloon. She still had a firm grip on Finn’s wrist. The van was so close.
Rachel pulled the keys from her pocket. She clicked the unlock button and the van’s rear light blinked red. More zombies stumbled into the road.
“Finn, go with Cage!” Rachel swung her bat at a skinny blonde zombie that came too close, before yanking open the driver door. The others scrambled inside the van and locked the doors.
“Go!” Cage yelled.
Dirty palms smacked against the glass.
Rachel’s hand shook when she slipped the key into the ignition. She pressed the gas and the
van peeled off to the back of the saloon. She flipped on the high beams, illuminating the scene in front of them.
A pack of zombies surrounded the giant evergreen. Dean, Monica, Nicky and Lindsay were perched on branches about eight feet off the ground. The tree swung dangerously to the side as the zombies rammed the trunk.
They were trapped.
Chapter Twelve
Nicky didn’t say anything about Monica. She had to know—she had to feel the break in skin, but it wasn’t his place to say. Besides, it probably didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things—they were all about to die. The tree swayed like a Charlie Brown Christmas tree in the middle of a category-five hurricane. Nicky was getting nauseous with the movement. Hey, maybe he’d get to ralph all over the zombies’ heads.
“Look!” Lindsay pointed. “They’re in the van!”
“But how do we get down there?” Dean asked.
Nicky squinted. “Who’s driving? If it’s Rachel, she’ll probably—”
~ ~ ~
“I’m going to ram them,” Rachel said. It was the only option—the tree was about to fall over.
“What?” Adam threw her a look. “Are you crazy?”
“Those zombies are going to knock the tree over. We’re wasting time. Buckle up.”
Cage slinked back into his seat. “Finn, put on your seat belt.”
“We can’t kill all those zombies by ramming them,” Adam said.
“We can kill some of them,” Rachel said. “Or at least get them away from the tree.”
Adam gripped the dashboard. “All right.”
“Hold on, boys,” Rachel clicked her seat belt. “This might hurt.”
~ ~ ~
The van sped forward at full speed.
Nicky couldn’t believe it—Rachel was going to mow down the horde. God bless her. Dirt spun from the back tires as the van gained speed. The van’s honking cut through the growling and the zombies collectively turned in its direction.
The van collided against the horde with an ear-shattering crash. The airbags detonated and the horn blared.
