He turned to Charlotte who casually sat. “I'm going Charlotte!”
“I'll see you later!” she fired, killing a big one.
“I may not return!” he yelled, putting his helmet on.
“Yes you will! Jesus said so!”
Dad nodded giving her a wave with his gauntlet.
Rick stepped up, “Will I return!?”
Charlotte shrugged, she had to return to shooting.
“Come on!” Dad said, hitting Rick's weak shoulders.
Dad grabbed up some burning limbs. Tom helped him. “Throw them over there. Give us some space. We're getting that bus!”
Dad pointed down to the parked bus. They had to drop down to the first floor roof that was on the east wing of the building, then make it over the fencing at the front of the school. It was a high chain link. They could leap and drop over from the roof but it would break some limbs for sure.
Dad looked for Amador and his family. He realized they weren't there. Amador must have gone wherever his family was hiding. He did not know. He could sense plenty of zombies in the school, running around like mad looking for another way up.
Tom tossed limbs on the other side. They smoked the area. The zombies were not crowding on that side. They were running around to the west side. The mound was spreading though, and the east side was certainly full of zombies. But their frenzy was concentrated amidst the chain reaction that was flooding the west.
It took all of them to fight the wall of zombies coming up. Limbs and heads were hacked off. Many rolled over onto the roof and they had to kill them quickly. It was tiresome, burdening work.
Amanda took a sip first and then handed Nick a bottle of vodka. “Burn those mother fuckers!” she screamed.
Nick nodded, and poured it out amidst a flame. It smoked and burned the mound. The zombies gave way, giving them a moment. A thick smoke spewed up and the flames spread. But as awesome it was, the bloody moist flesh and massive clambering would eventually choke it out.
Jake fired the last of the AK-47 rounds. They were devastating against the abominations. He used the handguns, firing at whatever was closest. It looked futile.
Dad hurried over to the east side. There weren't any zombie mounds on the roof below, the east wing. They were coming around to the west side. They tossed the flaming limbs to make a path to the bus. It wouldn't last long but it might work.
Rick climbed down. It was a long drop, but there were footholds down along the window sills and rain gutters. Dad had to push Rick to hurry before the zombies below were alerted and began to congregate.
“Oh please, please, I can't!” Rick cried.
“Go or I'll fucking kill you!” Dad yelled.
“Then kill me,” Rick cried.
Dad pushed him over. Rick cried as he rolled over. Dad grabbed his armor. It yanked his arm and his muscles screamed. He let go at the right moment and Rick fell with a thud, but not the full momentum of the fall.
Dad shook off the pain in his arm. He can't lose his arm now. Not gonna happen. What a risk. He clambered over and down. It was tricky in armor but he had to go. Tom continued tossing the flaming limbs.
He dropped down next to Rick, who was laying there.
“I think I broke something,” he might have said. Dad could not hear clearly. Dad lifted him up. Rick tottered but maintained himself on the lower roof. They could see the school bus parked beyond the fencing.
They would have to drop again, over the fencing. But it was hard cement. Dad moved over where some zombies were congregating, sensing them above. Dad waved furiously for Rick, who was shaking and seemed paralyzed.
Dad hurried back and grabbed him, yanking him over.
“Please no! Please!”
“Come on!”
Rick's limbs went limp and he fell on the roof, to avoid going. Dad poked him in the gut, just a little. It didn't penetrate but Rick could feel the point. Rick rolled over. Dad poked him in the side, just a little. “I'll fucking stab you! Get up!”
“Aaagghh! Stop!” Rick screamed hysterically.
“Get up! Now!'
Rick waved surrender and got up. “Jesus Christ!”
“Keep saying his name!” Dad yelled.
“Whah??? Jesus Christ!?” Rick repeated.
“Come on!” Dad yelled as Rick repeated the name of his savior over and over.
Dad yanked him up and over, onto the forming group of zombies. Rick fell on them gaping and wide eyed. “Jesus Christ!” He rolled across. Prone, they tried to claw at him. More came and Dad smashed into them from above. He rolled as they bowled out. He slammed against the side of the bus, but that gave him the momentum to stand and immediately swing at the zombies, slicing limbs and heads.
“Jesus Christ!”
He yanked Rick, slicing off grabbing hands and biting heads. Rick fell clear and Dad stepped toward the front of the bus. They had to get around to the door.
“Jesus Christ!”
Rick got up screaming mad and hurried. Dad cut a path. The smoke was there and gave them room even as a sea of zombies were passing around them.
“Jesus Christ!”
They got to the door. It was damaged but open, with blood and rotted body parts within. Dad slipped but recovered as he scrambled to get in and up the small confined space. He saw the bus driver parts. He yanked it all out as Rick made it to the door.
Dad couldn't even hear him scream amidst the roar, but he heard “Jesus Christ!” somehow. He turned to see Rick stuck as zombies were grabbing at him. Dad stepped down and cut and hacked behind Rick. It was difficult and constricting but he was able to pull him up, slicing off the grabbing cannibals.
Rick scrambled and flopped into the driver's seat. Dad easily kept them stuck in the door. Killing the first few blocked the rest. The zombies began pounding all along the school bus.
Rick saw the key, the buttons, the start-up. He prayed a little bit. He called out to his savior, his most recent savior. “Jesus Christ!” It started.
The boom blast chug seemed suddenly louder than the expanse of zombies. He hooted a guffaw for the first time since the apocalypse. He immediately pushed it and the bus exploded forward, splatting and knocking dozens of rows of zombies and throwing them off the door.
It suddenly stalled and tilted a bit to one side.
“Ah shit!” Rick grimaced. He started it again. This time it cranked and cranked. “Come on Lord!” It cranked and cranked.
Dad kicked and jabbed at the zombies stuck at the door. Several banged on the back, breaking the glass. Several were squeezing through broken windows, slicing themselves up and barely able to crawl. The masses were now surrounding the bus.
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...” Rick moaned. It started. “Jesus!!!”
He pushed the gas again, bursting forward. Rick stared ahead amidst the sea of zombies filling the street before them, atop the cars and spreading blocks and blocks away.
“No way...” he gasped.
It was just too thick. A wave suddenly washed up and an abomination, a giant with hundreds of limbs slammed against the front windows. The glass burst open and glass shreds shot everywhere. It screamed a hundred howling zombie voices as it grabbed Rick and ripped him limb from limb from the seat.
Dad, stuck in the space, turned and sliced off the wall of limbs. He sliced as many as he could. He could feel the whole bus shaking and tottering with the force of the zombies. But he felt a secondary vibration. It was the engine. He leapt to the seat, facing this wall of a monstrous beast. It's limbs were cut as it splattered blood and foul goo upon him. He reversed the gear and drove back as fast and hard as he could. The beast slid off, the limbs that clung to the bus ripped apart.
He put it back into first gear, or whatever gear the grinding noise was, and hit the pedal. The bus raced forward, running over and grinding the beast along with many zombies. The bus felt like it had a flat tire, or maybe it was just the splattering of hundreds of zombies at a time.
Another abomination rip
ped zombies apart as it leapt onto the front windows. It's massive body squeezed in and a hundred limbs were ripping at Dad's armor. He swerved the bus, crashing into the side of the school. The beast was caught as it flipped between the bus and wall. Dad pushed the gas and handled the steering wheel just right, bursting through the nearby shrubbery and ripping up against the building, ripping the multi-limbed beast to shreds.
He cleared it and quickly turned the massive steel mount the other way, crashing into cars then swerving back again. Zombies by the hundreds slammed and flattened immediately underneath. If the motorcycle were like a horse to a knight, this was like a dragon, like he was controlling a dragon amidst a horde of the undead.
He drove it just outside the parking lot. He knew they could see he made it. He crashed through thousands of meandering demons taking out waves of them. He kept the bus moving along, churning through the mounds of flesh. He knew where The Horde had cleared the cars. He knew where he could drive this metal machine without getting jammed and destroyed.
He realized a zombie was biting his armor. There were plenty thrown around in the bus. He smashed the rotted being with his gauntlet and drove on.
They saw from the roof. Hope was renewed as they fought the growing mounds of besieging zombies. Eddie made a terrible mistake and waved joyously as the zombies leapt up banging into him grabbing and biting him. He yelled and wrestled them but fell into the massive horde. Trek tried to help from behind, trying to grab him back, but got taken with him.
Steve roared leaping to them, not to save them, but to keep the others from trying. He turned and pushed Randall and Cory back, then had to turn as zombies came upon him.
Tom helped him, cutting away at the zombies. Amanda and Kristin ran to the fires. They cut up fallen zombies, lighting them and throwing them over, screaming hysterically. Amanda swore in Spanish. The fires didn't stop them from coming but obscured their senses as they reached out blindly.
Charlotte watched from the corner where she sat. She was at the end of the building away from the mound. She sat calmly, aiming her rifle. She saw Dad driving the bus like crazy. Rick was gone. “Yep.”
Seeing his daughter sitting aplomb atop the school roof had an effect on Dad as he busted through. He saw through the holes in his visor, his Charlotte sitting calmly. Did she wave? He plowed over thousands of zombies along the block. He turned on Sunset Boulevard and smashed his way out of their sight, forever remembering that last image of his Charlotte. Thank you God for my life, my wife, my children thereof...
There was this vast shudder amidst the masses of zombies, as if they all felt their feet cut out from under them. The mounds up against the building sunk a bit and the zombies fell back.
But as the bus passed beyond their sight, the zombies began anew upon the school. They began to swarm again. Still, a large swathe in the back raced after the bus. Was it enough?
Steve had to wave the others again, to fight and slash at the growing mounds. Lena and Lisa were exhausted. They did not know if they could continue.
Marcus came up to Lena and grabbed her naginata. She stood and looked at him. He gave her his sword and used her naginata. He copied her movements as he swung wide births, hacking zombies at first a few feet around him. But as he got better and more comfortable with it, he swung five to seven feet across, hacking zombie after zombie in rows. With severed heads and arms, they fluttered down the mound like pebbles down sand piles.
His momentum felt good, as if he could do it all day. He felt a breeze as he swung, twirling the naginata. Marcus found his courage and strength. He swung as an abomination clambered over the edge.
It was too late. The horrific beast was upon him as Lena screamed. It did not stop Marcus. He swung ferociously, slashing up the limbs as they came on. He suddenly went under and swung out the feet. The bloated thing dropped. Marcus leapt up with the strength of a budding man, virile and potent. He swung, not deep, but along its edges, slicing off limbs in droves. What was left was a stubby bloated grotesque blob.
Cory and Stu came up and hacked away at it. Marcus held the naginata across his chest and pushed the thing over the edge. It floundered and flopped, crushing zombies as it rolled to the ground below.
Then they saw the school bus come around again. Dad drove it closer to the lot, smashing against droves of zombies, cutting off massive amounts of them. He honked and hollered like a maniac.
31. Gates of Hell
“Get back. Get back! Get down!” Steve, exhausted, waved to the others. They retreated to the center of the roofing, getting as low as they could.
Masses of zombies, in the school yard and neighborhood, turned to the school bus. Dad slowed the monstrous vehicle. He waved and hollered, honked and gunned the gas in spurts. The bus growled and smoked with each jolt. The zombies turned, like a mass of concert goers when the doors opened and the slow draw to leave commenced.
The bus suddenly jerked. A large group walloped atop the bus, clambering over it. He gunned the gas and raced forward. The zombies flew off, smashing into others. The rage ensued and the chase was on. He drove down the street and onto Sunset for another run. But this time, it was it -- it was The Horde.
The waves of them formed immediately around the bus. He had to push the accelerator. He drove down Sunset, where he remembered the clearing toward Fairfax Boulevard. He knew it was clear enough for the bus. The Horde had made this pathway before, clearing the massive jam of cars when they chased Dad before.
"We meet again," Dad hissed.
He adjusted the rear view mirror. Miraculously, it was still there. The side mirror on the driver's side was gone, but the door side mirror was there, though cracked. He couldn't turn his head in the armor very far, but he could see the massive waves of zombies chasing after him in the mirrors and all around him. Unlike the motorcycle from before, he did not need to slow down. The massive Horde was literally upon him, smashing into the rear windows. Many were in the bus clambering toward him but falling and flailing as he careened the bus side to side, racing through the canyon of cars.
The sounds were explosive, from the roar of the bus to the scraping of cars. The steel of the bus careened against crushed cars and broken windows. The scraping screamed as he swerved to and fro. School buses are tougher than he thought.
The swelling of The Horde, like a tsunami wave, poured right after him. He wasn't sure with the raging blur in the mirrors, but he thought he saw cars fly into the air, crashing into buildings on either side. The roaring, crashing sounds were like a constant smashing wind tunnel from hell.
The bus jolted up many times from the rear. The drive shaft was in the front so he kept it driving forth. It kept pushing to his right but he fought it, crashing back and forth. He knew he had led as many as he could away from them, from his wife and daughters, from his love. Thank you God for my life, my wife, my children thereof.
He pushed through, stuck in a strained position in the driver's seat, in his thick steel armor. He gunned it as hard as he could, racing ahead. He could not tell where he was going. He merely saw the opening, the racing zombies all around, and the heads and limbs being pulled under as he raced ahead.
Through his dirty helm, through a few of the holes, past the wretched zombie stench and dripping flesh, he could see the vast wall of black smoke. He was nearing something, the high school perhaps. He couldn't remember if he turned down Fairfax or not. Zombies were everywhere in the bus, scrambling and bashing, many missing limbs or large portions of their bodies. They were crawling throughout and clawing at him.
He was certain several were hanging on him and gnawing at this or that. He couldn't fully tell. The sounds were crashing and cascading, the visuals flashing and furious. He saw limbs around him, waving and flailing, but each collision and swerve suddenly changed the picture before him.
He thought he could ride into any infernal flames and burn the hell out of The Horde, but he realized as he drove, he had no where to go. He was running out of a clear road. He ha
d gone as far as he could. After all, who else could form up The Horde and have it give chase? Only he could.
Before him, he saw a massive wall of cars, pushed up and clogging the street. The burning city blocks were beyond that. He could not make it.
He gritted his teeth and turned the bus, but there wasn't enough room. He was going to get stuck and The Horde would slam against him, flooding the bus and ripping everything within it. He knew if he was engulfed by The Horde, he'd easily suffocate, get crushed or be torn apart. He just wished he'd knew if it worked, if he saved his family this time.
He remembered in a sermon, that when one dies, a Christian, they immediately go to heaven. There is no wait. He figured, wow, any moment, he was going to see Jesus, to know the past, present and future. He would know his family’s life from this point on, and see them when they return to God. He was sure of it. Any moment now, like a flash, it would happen. His whole body shook and his nerves were shot.
It was inevitable that one of his damned heroics would end him. Now was as good a time as any. He couldn't protect his wife and daughters forever. That made him sad. He felt the sudden buzz of inevitable death. He crashed into cars and barricades and cones. He looked up to see the vast column of smoke beyond, too far for him to make. Before him a flimsy chain-link fence and a few stuck cars was the end of his ride. He crashed the bus to the end as The Horde flooded.
It was an assailing nightmare of constant explosive change. His end was a whole world of change. It all raced up over him, everything suddenly leapt away and he was in some instant hell. His gut came up pushing some vomitous force, blood exploded into his face, choking him. His face immediately bloated. His eyes felt like they were going to pop out. He felt the massive weight of The Horde crushing him as he careened and hit horrendously hard, surrounded by an instant wall of zombies. The force of zombies all around him suffocated him. He felt the pressure explode his skull, his flesh, his skin. Any moment now would be his end, but for now he had to endure this pain, this horrible pain. Please take me now, he thought.
Knight of the Dead (Book 3): Fortress Page 18