There was a house with the front door open. She ran inside, slammed the door as she went. One of them was inside. There was a fireplace. She grabbed the poker and smashed him in the head. Alive he had been a big guy. Still wearing his baseball hat and a loose fitting pair of jeans, no shirt. His rolls of fat spilled over the waist, a disgusting pale wave of dead flesh. She swung the heavy poker down, again and again, until the top of his head caved in. Then she ran out the back. Fuck. She needed a place, somewhere she could go and think. Needed to make sense of this. What. The. Fuck.
The school. She could go to the school. It would be safe there. Heavy doors. It was summer. Nobody inside.
She kept running.
Crossing the river
Morning broke early, filling the shed with filtered light, dust motes sparkling in the beams. Jasper was better able to see his surroundings, to take stock of what he had available. Once he realized how much light the shed let in he was horrified, he had been using his flashlight for an extended period the night before. A scratching sound at the shed door penetrated his mind. If it was only one zombie he didn’t think it would be a problem. Just slam the door open, and take off its head. If there was more than one, a very different story. He decided to gear up first, just in case he was wading into a group of the undead.
He found a tool belt, a compromise until he could locate a decent sized backpack, and grabbed some essentials. A medium sized pry bar was the best of it. It was going to be a pain in the ass to carry, but it would make getting into buildings much easier. It seemed like breaking and entering was going to make up a large part of his life in the near future.
Once he had a basic tool kit set up in the tool belt he drew his sword and made sure it was well clear of his belt, then he kicked the door, driving all of his weight into his heel. The door flew open, as the zombie that had been pushing on it was knocked to the ground. It was just one, so he decapitated it. The first swing didn't quite do it, the sword biting halfway through the creatures’ neck. A second swing did the trick. Snow followed, a moment behind him.
He had to cross the Bedford highway again in a moment, in order to make it into a path that would keep him off of the main roads, and for the most part out of sight. There were two paths he could take, the road crossed a small bridge, and there was a foot path that led under it, crossing a small river. It was hidden, would mean he could get across the road safely, but it popped up right next to the road, with no cover. He could be walking into anything, there could be hundreds of zombies right there, and he wouldn't know until they were on top of him. The other path was over the road, exposed the whole time. If he took that one, he would be able to see what was coming, to plan.
It was worth the risk after his experience the night before. He didn't want to be caught unawares again, Snow might not be able to save him this time. He crept up the embankment to a parking lot next to the road, surveying the scene ahead while staying as close to the ground as possible. His weight was on his elbows and toes, moving with almost a slither, belly centimeters from the ground. The strain on his shoulders was intense, keeping his weight that spread out, and he moved slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he was in a position where he could see everything. His position was a bit above the highway, looking down at the chaos below.
The highway was covered in cars, empty of living inhabitants. The dead wandered between the abandoned vehicles, no pattern to their movement, no apparent logic to them at all. A grotesque tableau of decayed flesh. Even the intact ones had a quality to them, not just their too stiff movement, not just their grey and empty eyes, a slackness to their flesh that made them horrifying. Jasper couldn't tell how many of them there were, hundreds at least, maybe thousands. They were spaced out though, not clustered. The stopped cars provided cover.
Slowly, moving in a crouch so his silhouette wouldn’t be highlighted, Jasper made his way to the road. Snow stayed close by, eyes darting left and right, sniffing the air. The two of them crept up the stairs until they hit the sidewalk and crawled behind a van. So far so good, no increase in shuffling towards them. Jasper moved between cars, carefully and deliberately. He was almost across the street when his pry bar hit the side of a car, hard. The clanging sound spread through the street, and suddenly all the zombies were turning his way. Jasper leapt up started running. He hit a side street picking up speed, not even looking back. He could hear Snow panting next to him.
There was an office building not too far ahead, so he aimed for it, sprinting as hard as he could. The sprint was enough to give him a tiny bit of distance, get him ahead of the horde. Once he had some breathing room he slowed to a steady jog, settling into his long distance stride. He was still faster than the undead, and it meant he wasn’t going to run out of steam too quickly, running down the side street until the building was in sight. It was new construction, large glass doors barring his way in. He jammed the pry bar into the gap between the door and frame and pushed as hard as he could. The door popped open with a loud squeal, the frame bent out of shape around the lock, glass still intact. He was developing a love/hate relationship with the pry bar. Jasper had never been inside this building before, but he was counting on it being like most small office buildings. Sure enough there was a stairwell right inside the door, on the right. He opened the heavy duty fire door to the stairwell and headed up, Snow on his heels. The zombies were catching up to him, his pause to open the main door had cost him time. He was counting on that. The zombies started milling into the building lobby, scratching at the stairwell door, trying to get at him, their weight pressed into it. Jasper ran up the stairs with Snow. If he had guessed wrong about the layout of the building he had no plan, no idea what he would do, everything depended on this one guess. He slammed the second floor door open, headed for the back of the building. Once he got there he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. There was another stairwell with the words “fire door, do not open” on it. Exactly as he had been counting on. He vaulted down the back stairwell hitting the latch on the rear door with an outstretched arm, and kept running. The tree line was right behind the building. He stopped running, wanting to keep the noise down, and moved slowly towards it. Snow seemed to pick up the need for quiet once again, slinking along next to him.
Finally, he was under decent cover. It was a small green belt, the kind you find in suburban neighbourhoods to make them feel more like you aren't in the city. He moved slowly through the trees and back to the street, around a bend and out of view of the office building. The highway continued on the other side of the river, a natural barrier between him and the zombies that hadn't chased him. The ones that had were long out of sight, not following any further.
He made his way down to the path next to the grocery store parking lot. He was hungry, hungrier than he had been in years, it felt like his stomach was eating itself. The last time he was that hungry he was doing his survival certs in mid-winter. Snow would be at least as hungry as he was. The grocery store was tempting, incredibly tempting. He crept along the path with Snow, keeping low to the ground. He rounded the bend so he could see the front of the store. It looked clear, no zombies clustered out front, no people trying to break in. A lot of blood near the doors though, clear indication that something went down yesterday. A bad sign: the door was wide open, and the lights were out. There were better stores in the other mall across the highway, but no way was he trying that crossing again.
He moved through the parking lot, scanning from side to side, head up. He made it to the front door, it was jammed in place, random bits of trash blocking it. Inside he could see that the second set of sliding doors were closed, the lobby trashed. No food in between the sets of doors. Jasper moved to the inner doors, pushed the pry bar in between them, leaning his weight on it, hard. He heard something moving inside, shuffling towards him. Three zombies shambled into view. It was a gamble, it was possible that the horde from the office building would still hear him, but he was so hungry. He decided to chance it, but cau
tiously, methodically. He pushed the doors most of the way shut, leaving a thin gap between them. He pulled one of the large tables over to the outside doors and upended it so it was blocking the entryway, making as little noise as he could. The noise he did make was enough to pull all the zombies he could see right to the door. There were more than he had thought, ten or twelve it looked like, all clustered near the door, trying to push through. The door was starting to slide, so he drew his sword and stabbed the closest one through the head. The creature’s skull provided resistance for a moment, so he pushed harder, until finally it smashed through the bone, right through the back of the head. Pulling the sword out was harder than he had thought it would be. Another one filled the gap as soon as the first one fell, teeth gnashing. An older woman, heavily made up. Her body was torn in a dozen places and her throat had a gaping wound. There was a strong smell of shit coming from her, and probably from all of them. He hadn’t encountered them indoors before, and not in these numbers. The smell was worse than he had imagined. He knew that dead people would lose control of their bowels, but it hadn’t occurred to Jasper that meant zombies too.
He slammed the blade forward again, catching her at a bit of an angle, so it sliced off a large hunk of her cheek and some of the flesh on her head, just surface damage. She didn’t even flinch, continuing to try and bite him, teeth gnashing in the gap of the doors. He pulled the sword back again and slammed it forward on target this time. He realized the doors were starting to slide, and there was no way for him to brace them, he needed to pick up the pace and pick it up fast. Desperate, he started slamming the sword into the undead as fast as he could. By the time the doors opened wide enough for them to spill through there was only four left. The first one fell to the floor as Jasper swung his blade. He caught the second in the neck, but his blade was coming at a downward angle. It bit into its far shoulder, lodging there and pulling out of his hand as the zombie fell. Snow jumped on the back of the one on the ground and started biting at the back of its neck, keeping it pinned, but that left two coming at him while he had no sword.
He backed up as he pulled the pry bar from his tool belt. The first one to reach him was a teenage girl, she might even have been pretty if all of her face had been there. Between the smell and the missing left half of her face she made him nauseous. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the smells and sights he was confronting. On television it was sanitized, hidden behind glass. It was different when the rot, the decay, the excrement, was in his nose almost solid in its intensity. The wounds were wet, oozing, dripping. The zombies made noises too, not just moaning noises, wet squishy sounds as they moved, the sound of bodily fluids drying and pulling against flesh. He brought the pry bar down on her head as hard as he could, throwing all of his weight into the swing. There was a sickening crack, and she stumbled… but didn’t drop. He drew back and slammed the bar down again. He knew that he had hit her with enough force to drop a human, but apparently it wasn’t enough to actually destroy her brain. She was reaching for him with hands drawn into claws, he didn't have enough room to swing full force. The top of her head was deformed, bits of bone showing through her hair. He swung again, as best he could. Her fetid breath in his nose, blank dead eyes looking into his. The metal hit her already weakened skull, and finally she dropped. The other one was right next to her and got hold of Jaspers shirt, pulling itself towards him more than him towards it, before he had a chance to catch his breath. Jasper drove his weight behind the curved end of the pry bar and slammed it into the creature’s mouth. This one was a teenage boy, long shaggy hair drenched in blood, left eye missing, right eye milky and empty. Jasper heard teeth crack and saw them fall out of the things mouth. He kept pushing, harder and harder. Finally he got some momentum and slammed the zombie back into the glass next to the door. He jammed his right shoulder against one end of the bar, and pulled his hunting knife out of its belt sheath. He pressed the blade against the zombies’ temple, while trying to hold it steady between his left arm and his right shoulder. Finally the blade started to sink in, eventually making it deep into its skull. The life finally went out of the creature and it dropped to the ground, just in time. Jasper had no strength left in his arms, his breath was coming ragged and hard, trying to draw enough oxygen into his lungs, an impossible task at that moment. That left just one. Snow had it immobilized on the ground, straddling its back. Jasper put both hands on the hilt of his sword and one foot on the back of the zombie and pulled the blade free. It wasn’t too hard, with leverage on his side. The walked over, almost casually, and pressed the tip of the blade into the creature’s head. He pressed down, then leaned his entire weight onto the hilt. The sword popped through the skull and the creature stopped struggling. As soon as it stopped Snow stopped fighting it, somehow knowing in his doggy brain that the threat was gone.
Now that he had a moment to breathe Jasper wanted to be out of there fast, before the horde caught up to him. First he hit produce and grabbed a bag of apples. Apples are portable, and keep for a while even without refrigeration. He ate one on the spot, marveling at how crisp it was, how good the juice felt bursting in his mouth, rain in a desert. After he ate and gathered his breath he started scavenging. He headed for bottled water and grabbed a large bottle for Snow to drink. The big dog started lapping at it instantly, not even stopping when Jasper headed into the meat sections. Normally Snow got high end pet food, but what could be higher end than top of the line t-bone steaks? It wasn’t like they were going to be edible for much longer, and the dog needed to eat.
After Snow had his basic needs satisfied Jasper started searching the store in a more serious way. He ate as he went, sucking up calories as fast as possible. He managed to find a medium backpack, a bargain brand leftover from last season that nobody had bothered with, not exactly suitable for his needs but better than nothing. There were a few other discounted items in seasonal meant for camping. He grabbed what he could, which was really nothing much. There was one gem though, a few cans of alcohol gel meant for folding camp stoves. Just the dregs at the end of the season. There were also a few bottles of barbecue starter and a couple of barbecue lighters. He took all of that, and improvised a sling for one of the 4 liter bottles of water, so that he could carry it around his shoulder. Finally he had all he could carry, a bunch of tinned food, a can opener, a single can of pop, for the can, he still hadn’t decided if he should drink it or empty it on the ground. He headed for the entry way. There were a few zombies in the parking lot now, but still not many. Jasper left by the fire exit, since it didn’t have a giant table blocking it.
With a bit of food in his stomach things felt a lot more possible. Maybe he would be able to find a vehicle once he was out of the city and make his way by car most of the way. It would only take a few days that way. Karen was irritating, but competent. To be fair most people liked her, it was only Jasper that found her hard to deal with. There was something sticking in the back of his head though, something about the store. He put it aside to let his subconscious sort it out. One of the zombies spotted him right away, and started shuffling in his direction. He could see maybe a half dozen scattered around. There were bridges across the river leading to the parking lot he was in, and many, many undead on the other side of those bridges, he’d better be both quick and quiet getting out of sight. The path led along the river bank, and was low enough that nobody from the road was going to be able to see him. Unfortunately that meant dealing with what was here fast. He drew his sword and moved on the approaching zombie. Fuck. Zombies. It hit him all of a sudden. He was swinging a sword at a zombie in the parking lot of the Bedford Superstore. This couldn't be real, not possible.
The moment passed as quick as it had hit him, he was too busy, had too much to accomplish. He took off the things head and kept moving fast. Two of the others noticed the movement and started to close, close enough that he didn’t think he’d be able to lose them. The trail went under the first bridge, which meant he would have the advantage of cov
er and controlling the terrain if he could make it there before they could reach him. It would also mean that only one of them could get at him at a time. If they both tried they would end up in the river, which was swollen and overflowing its banks due to a wet summer. He half ran, half slid down the short slope by the riverbank and then moved fast into the hidden spot under the bridge. He saw one of the zombies come down, then another, then another, then another. Four. Shit. He’d managed to draw almost all the ones from the lot right to him. The first one came at him, a slow lurching crawl. He couldn’t get a good swing at its head, so he aimed for its right leg, swinging as hard as his body would allow. He cleaved its leg from its body. The zombie fell into the water and was carried away from him. The river was high enough that even on the path he was up to his ankles, and the water was cold. He stood and waited. Snow was behind him, waiting. Suddenly he heard Snow leap, the water splashing, and a moment later saw the zombie that had been sneaking up behind him float away. The next three were easy. He only managed to dispatch one of them, but the river dealt with all four the same way. Even for a living person the current was strong. Apparently zombies weren’t great swimmers. Good to know.
Jasper kept to the path, but the path didn’t go under the last two bridges, it ran up to them. He weighed the odds, but in the end it was Snow that made him decide to go over on top of the bridges. The husky could swim, but he wasn’t good at it, and Jasper wasn’t about to risk the dog who had saved his life at least three times in the last twenty-four hours. He crept to the edge of the roadway, one hand on the dogs shoulder, keeping an eye for zombies. When he couldn’t see any he popped up and sprinted quickly across the road. He made the first bridge without attracting any notice. He was even more cautious at the next bridge, and managed it without problems. Finally he was out of sight of the highway and could stay there for a long time.
A Long Walk Page 3
