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The Dead Collection Box Set #1: Jack Zombie Books 1-4

Page 50

by Flint Maxwell


  Billy takes a drag off his fresh cigarette. “We didn’t expect much.”

  “Can it,” Sean says, snatching the cigarette from his twin and sucking in a lungful of smoke.

  “Still halfway over the — ” Jacob looks down at the map, “ — 14th Street Bridge.”

  “Go, Jake, we can get farther along,” Grady says.

  Jacob sighs then punches the gas, causing us to press against our seats.

  Metal whines again. The engine continues to rev, black smoke floats up around the spinning tires past the back windows. The end of the Hummer starts fishtailing. My mouth drops open as I see the pile up slowly break away. The dead cars move to the side and Jacob backs the Hummer up, rolls over the hood of a Pontiac Firebird and goes on.

  “Fuck,” Billy says. “Good driving, Jake.”

  “Top notch,” Sean echoes.

  Jacob looks in the rearview and winks.

  “My idea,” Grady says. “No biggie.”

  Maybe not the best idea, I think, but it worked. With the group a little brighter from this momentary victory, I open my mouth and say, “Maybe you should take back what you said about Grady. You know, maybe I inspired him or something.”

  Billy snorts. “Good one.”

  The rest of the bridge is pretty clear. We drive at a steady thirty miles per hour. The closest hospital, Jacob says was taken by a few brave souls. A group of ten, but only two came back and the ones who had told Grady the place was cleaned out. They were in a neighboring compound, now dead and gone. They had also said the place was overrun by zombies, but that was to be expected. Now we are heading to the next closest hospital. The CDC is too deep into the city. The hospital we are heading for is called Mercy Globe, and it’s about five miles in.

  If you ask me, that’s five too many. It really sucks, but I just hope we make it.

  As we near the end of the bridge, Grady tells Jacob to pick up speed. Jacob says something a tired husband would say to his nagging wife. Maybe next time you should drive! But he gives in and the rumbles of the engine vibrate the Hummer’s body.

  We head for another pile, going much too fast. I close my eyes.

  Thirty-One

  The Hummer, much to my heart’s content, barrels through the barrage of rusted cars with ease. Think of a Mac truck rolling through a cornfield. The noise we make is deafening and perhaps stupid.

  Jacob laughs again. “I never felt so alive,” he says.

  I have both my hands clamped on the overhead bar. Billy’s cigarette flies out of his hand and lands on the floor with a sizzle.

  Jacob slams on the brakes. “Maybe this won’t be so bad after all,” he says.

  The cars we’ve plowed through are up there and there and parts of another one is over there. I notice a couple with their hoods hanging open. No engine. The stack we went through wasn’t an accident. It was a barricade. Someone doesn’t want visitors. My heartbeat speeds up thinking about that. I want to reach for my gun. Just holding that heavy steel makes me feel better.

  “Engines were gone,” Jacob says, reading my mind. “That means there’s people here.”

  “Well, no shit,” Billy says, leaning back and picking up his smoking cigarette. “It’s fuckin D.C. What do you expect?”

  “I expect everyone to be dead,” I say.

  “Oh, you’ve been all over the world since this has happened?” Billy says.

  “No, but I heard things,” I say.

  “We’ve all heard things,” Billy says. “What’s true and what’s rumor are not always the same.”

  He ain’t wrong. I know for a fact. Eden was a rumor, a massively failed rumor.

  The Hummer slows to a crawl then stops. From my seat I can see the towering buildings. They look as infected as the people who used to inhabit them. Broken windows. Black burns down the sides like the Washington Monument. Chunks of brick completely gone like chunks of flesh from the zombies. We have rode into D.C., and I’m beginning to think it stands for Dead City. So much for a vacation.

  Grady gets out and looks around. “Can’t go any farther,” he says. “We walk from here.”

  “Walk?” Billy says. “You gotta be fuckin kidding me.” One cigarette-filled hand motions to the road ahead of us. “We can at least get another mile.”

  Sean shakes his head.

  “Nope,” Grady says. “Closer we get, the less noise we gotta make.”

  I am the first to get out. I don’t even care about the fear practically freezing my joints. I’d almost rather have to fight zombies than be stuck in the Hummer with Billy and his smoke.

  “Seriously?” Billy asks me. I look over my shoulder at him. His eyes are wide, there’s a grimace on his face, and he’s twirling his fingers for the count. “What is that, three or four?”

  “Not now, Bill,” Jacob says.

  “What, we all follow Jack now because he took down the infamous Spike of Eden? Geesh. Gimme a break,” Billy says.

  I grit my teeth then I take a deep breath. “Grady knows what he’s talking about,” I say. “The car will just attract more zombies or people or worse. He said the hospital was two miles from the bridge. Two miles isn’t that far. We can do it.”

  “And plowing through a barricade of cars won’t attract attention?” Billy says.

  “I didn’t want our only ride to be stranded on the bridge,” Grady says, but I notice he won’t make eye contact with Billy. He’s absentmindedly adjusting the strap of his AR15. “The bridge’s are old enough as it is. God knows how long it’s been since they had proper maintenance. We’re already at enough risk.”

  Jacob nods and grumbles approval. I can’t help but agree. It would really, really suck for us to be running from a horde of zombies only to find our way out of the city has sunk to the bottom of the Potomac. Jacob opens his door and gets out. Sean does, too and rounds the other side. He opens Billy’s door.

  “Quit being a pussy, bro,” he says, and grabs a handful of his twin brother’s arm, yanking him out of the van.

  “Watch it!” Billy shouts.

  “Everyone just cool it,” Jacob says. “I’m sure I could drive a water-logged car if it came down to it. I’m that good.” Jacob elbows me. I arch my eyebrow at the old man. Gotta love the confidence, I guess.

  But everyone does cool it, thank God.

  “Remember that time at the blood bank in Richmond?” Billy says, his voice less hostile. “Jacob whipped that Corvette on two wheels and landed on the rotter before the damn thing could rip out Selena’s throat.”

  Grady laughs, shaking his head. “Man, that was something else.”

  “Ain’t no big deal,” Jacob says, looking at his nails and smirking. “Just doing my job. Speaking of,” he continues, “I’m gonna move the Hummer into a getaway position.”

  Grady puts his thumb up. “Good idea.”

  Jacob gets in the Hummer and in a blink of an eye, he spins it around, tires kicking up rubber smoke. He pulls a maneuver I didn’t think was possible, parallel parking and doing a five-point turn in two points. All that crap you heard in driver’s education rolled up into one amazing feat.

  “Told you,” Jacob says, hitting me after he gets out. “I’m that good.”

  “All right,” Grady says. He pulls a pair of sunglasses out of his breast pocket and puts them on. Billy snickers. For some reason, I think Billy probably does that every time Grady puts these on. They’re not very flattering.

  Grady just shrugs and says, “Can’t look cool if you’re dead. City sunlight can be harsh.”

  Sunlight is sunlight and even though he looks like a dweeb, I guess I understand his logic. Darlene would kill me if she ever saw those sunglasses on my face. They’re the type she’d call ‘douchebag shades’ and I can’t say I don’t agree with her.

  “Best we get going before you won’t need those sunglasses,” Jacob says.

  There is a long stretch of road ahead before the buildings start to scrape the sky and shroud us in shadow. The road is choked with cars. Bu
mper to bumper traffic. A brown Sebring’s windshield is drenched in blood. I have to double-take because the blood isn’t on the outside. There’s no body or zombie laying nearby.

  No, the blood paints the glass from the inside. As we walk by, I’m the only one whose head turns to look at this gruesome scene. A bullet hole stars the glass on the driver’s side, yet the glass hasn’t shattered. I see the gaunt face of a man in a business suit. A chunk of his head is gone, the blood and brains long since congealed. No big deal, I tell myself. I’m used to this now.

  “What about Mother?” I ask to Grady. I need something to take my mind off of death.

  “Hm?” Grady says.

  “When did she come to your village?”

  “She was one of the first,” Jacob says, turning to me. “Grady, Mother, another woman who’s been dead a few months, my wife, and I were the founders. Well, I don’t know if we can call ourselves founders.”

  “It was Mother,” Grady says. “I took care of her.” He smiles. “I don’t look it, but I worked in a nursing home. Mother was there much longer than I was, but she was the brightest. And as the disease spread, and folks came to take home dear old granny and grandpappy, no one came for Mother. I’ve been divorced since ’03, and I don’t have kids. My mom died when I was thirteen of a heroine overdose, father was never there. I had no one, not even friends, really,” Grady says. His smile has disappeared.

  I feel for the man. I know what it’s like to be alone, maybe not to his extent, but before I met Darlene, ‘loner’ would’ve been an apt term to describe me.

  We are now walking across a small bridge where the highway — also full of unmoving cars — stretches miles below us. A strong sense of vertigo hits me, making me feel queasy. Almost as queasy as when I looked into the bloody car.

  “So I took Mother. I took her out of the home and the day I took her was the day a fire ripped through our little town. My apartment complex was one of the first buildings to go. So now I really didn’t have anything. I took one of the handicap vans and Mother and I hit the road. She told me to stay away from the big cities. She told me our safety depended on it. The rest is history.”

  “Not really,” Jacob says. “We met each other on the road. Not far from our little village. Mother started having the dreams — ”

  “She always had the dreams,” Grady says.

  “You guys gonna yap all day, or are we gonna actually haul some ass and hit that hospital?” Billy asks.

  “Hate to agree with him, but he’s right,” Sean says.

  I’m curious about the dreams. That’s all that seems important to me right now.

  “It’s not far,” Grady says. “The faster we go the more apt we are to make a mistake.”

  Grady stops.

  Everyone keeps going, even Jacob and I.

  “Besides,” Grady says looking over the bridge, and we aren’t even halfway across the overpass when he stops, “we’re almost there.”

  He points to a large building with a globe hanging crookedly off its facade. MERCY GLOBAL HOSPITAL is written below the globe in an electric blue. I imagine at one point in time the sign glowed before the electricity went out. It’s a few blocks away.

  “How the hell do you expect us to get down?” Billy says.

  “Yeah, Grady, we don’t have wings,” Derek says.

  “We jump,” Grady answers.

  Thirty-Two

  “Just kidding,” he says, smiling at our uneasy faces. “We climb down.”

  I look over the side at the crooked cars on their flat tires, at the trash blowing gently down the interstate. It’s got to be at least thirty feet to the ground.

  Grady unslings his pack, unzips it, and starts rifling through the contents.

  Billy tilts his head back and says, “You gotta be kidding me. I’m not Spider-Man, man!”

  “It’s easy,” Grady says.

  He pulls two rolled ropes out of the bag. They’re black, and on one end is a clip, I’m assuming to be clipped to a harness or something he probably doesn’t have. On the other end is a metal claw. This is so much like a gadget you’d see in a heist movie, I almost want to burst out laughing.

  “Your love of extreme sports is going to end up killing us,” Sean says. “First the parachuting in Richmond, the rock climbing in that cave…and now this?”

  I wonder just how far these guys go back.

  “Hey, you’re still alive,” Grady says. “And it was fun as hell, wasn’t it?”

  Sean rocks his head back and forth, weighing his options. Then a smile breaks out on his face and says, “Hell yeah, but that’s not the point.”

  “So just trust me,” Grady says. He walks to the handrail, loops the claw end through it two times and pulls the rope hard enough for the metal to screech against the concrete barrier. “Perfectly safe.”

  “Why don’t we take the long way?” Sean asks. His face is pallid, maybe even squeamish. “I mean, we can walk and live.”

  “Or we can rappel down and be out of here in two hours instead of six. Plus, our friends would love for us to go the long way.”

  “Huh?” I say.

  Grady stands on the concrete edge. “Stand up here,” he says.

  “No, thanks, I don’t like heights,” Sean says.

  So, I do. The wind whips through my hair. What was thirty feet now seems like hundreds. Grady points beyond the bridge, over husks of crumbled buildings and flipped cars. In the distance, I see movement, and as I narrow my eyes, I realize it’s zombies — hundreds of them all milling about like mindless farm animals. I jump down real quick, my voice shaky, “Yeah, let’s rappel down.” It’s been awhile since I’ve seen that many grouped up. The only thing separating us from them is really just a stretch of blacktop. And I don’t like that at all.

  “Yeah, bro,” Billy says. “Grow a pair.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Grady shouts. He tosses the other claw to Billy and says, “Tie it up and lets get some medicine.”

  Billy smirks and elbows his brother.

  “How about you, Jack?” Jacob asks me. “You ready for some fun?”

  No, but what choice do I have? Run from the dead by myself? Hell no.

  “Let’s do it,” I say.

  “I’ll go first,” Grady says, “then you guys, but let me show you how it’s done.” He smiles and winks, then unrolls a harness. It’s one of those harnesses that you step into and wear like a pair of shorts. He pulls it on seamlessly. Then he is on the edge of the bridge, probably looking down at the sea of rusting metal and dead bodies from thirty to forty feet up. I get that feeling like I’m falling just by looking at him.

  I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like once it’s time for me to put the harness on. I’m breaking out into a sweat just thinking about it. I mean, one wrong move, one slip, and I’m splat on the pavement. They’ll have to pick me up with a spatula. Damn, if Darlene finds out I died bungee jumping off of a bridge she’ll kill me.

  “Whoo-Hoo!” Grady says, and he doesn’t ease his way down like I think he’s going to. He just kind of drops, kicking his legs against one of the concrete pillars. It’s so quiet up here I hear my breath hitching. Hell, I hear Grady’s breath, and the scrape of his boot soles against the rough surface. It takes him about ten seconds before he’s down. He stands on top of a Mustang that rear-ended a Kia. The door is still open. My skin prickles, feeling both excruciatingly cold and warm, at the thought of the driver still being inside of the Mustang’s cabin. The image of the red-drenched windshield a half mile back up the bridge comes back to me in a flood of blood, kind of like that scene in Kubrick’s The Shining. Except, seeing it for real and seeing something like that on the silver screen is way different. But I’ve been thinking that way since this whole zom-poc happened.

  “That easy!” Grady shouts up.

  I snap my head to the other guys. Grady shouldn’t be shouting. I don’t know what the population of D.C. was before The End, but the thought of millions of zombies coming our
way while we’re trapped on a bridge is not a pleasant one.

  Billy raises his hand and holds up three fingers, nodding at me.

  “Just ignore him,” Jacob says as he pulls up the rope. I’m already stepping into the harness the twins set up not too far from the one Grady’s rappelling down. The metal loop brushes up against my skin. It’s ice cold. I feel my heartbeat. Steady, but hitting my chest hard.

  “Piece of cake!” Grady shouts again.

  Sean is already harnessed up. He climbs to the edge, gives me a nod — all business, it says — and falls down.

  “That’s it! C’mon!” Grady says.

  I think he must be lonely down there with nothing but dead cars and dead people. Before I even look at Billy, I raise my own hand and hold up four fingers. This makes the twins chuckle. Sean pats me on the back as I check the harness and make sure it’s secure. I step onto the edge, but I’m nothing like Grady. I sit my ass on the concrete and ease myself down, eyes closed.

  “Yeah, that’s it! Keep going, Jack!” Grady says.

  The ground goes out beneath my feet and I’m dangling thirty feet above the road, on a thin line. I’m practically zombie bait. My foot catches the pillar, and then it gets easier. I slowly rappel down.

  I open my eyes, Jacob and Sean’s faces get smaller and smaller. I look down and though the road and the crashed Mustang seems like miles away, it does get closer. Once I’m past the thick overhang of the bridge, and my head is low enough to actually peek under it, I see exactly what I don’t want to see.

  They are not far.

  Not far at all. And they seem to have come from nowhere. Poof.

  Reflexively, my hands, which are death-gripped to the rope, go for the SIG in my holster. Big mistake. I’m knocked off balance, and the whole world spins. My stomach lurches with the movement. I scream out, and as I scream, mainly out of the sudden weightless feeling, the SIG is a blur of steel.

  “Zombies!” Jacob shouts.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Sean says.

  Grady has moved back up to the Mustang, his AR15 in hand. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! We can outrun them.”

 

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