Mom can only scream and shake and try helplessly to pull away as jaws clamp down on plastics and padding. Still, the pain is there, a vice grip around pads, and she screams for her husband, “RONAN!!!”
He is upon the zombies, grabs one and with such strength tosses it clear over a car. He grabs the other, enough to pull its head up and kick deep into its throat, causing it to loosen its grip, then standing it up so he can lop its head off.
He picks up his wife and finds, pressed on the ground and half under a car, Charlotte painfully stuck and sobbing helplessly.
“Get her out!” he yells at his crying wife.
He picks up the .45 handing it to her, but she is busy with Charlotte. He is angry she can't fight and sets it in his mind to be much more vicious with her, to train her. He tucks the .45 hurriedly in his breastplate. It hurts pushing on his chest but he has no time to adjust it.
He turns to see Lena and Lisa hacking away at zombies. They are frantic and on the edge of panic but are at least meeting halberd to zombie and cutting deep debilitating wounds.
“Get their legs! Do it quick!” Dad yells. He gets them to run back to the truck. They reach the truck. Lena and Lisa step up and over the cinder wall and leap into the bed.
Mom crying frantic gets Charlotte out from under the car and over to the truck. She gets her daughter into the seat. Dad kills several more zombies along the way. He is ever mindful of the The Horde smashing its way up Sunset Boulevard. It is only a few intersections away, swarming through everything, up-heaving the weathered stacks of cars.
“My God, go! Go!” he hisses.
She starts the truck. It won't start.
“Come on! Go!”
“I can't. I'm trying!” his wife cries. Charlotte is huddled down, not looking. Any sense of her fight has gone and is over taken by utter fear.
Dad notices Lisa and Lena are lying in the truck bed, unable to look up, unable to do anything. The Horde's emanating fear has paralyzed them.
“You've got to start the truck for God's sake!”
The truck starts.
“Now go, back to the house, to the attic!”
She nods and reverses quickly. She looks at The Horde before her. It tosses cars to either side. A bus is overwhelmed and rolls over, crushed under the weight of the massive flow of zombies.
“Just go! Now!”
She cries at the overwhelming horror. She drives backwards. Unskilled and terrified, she crashes into cars. Lena and Lisa are slammed against the tailgate. They fly up and fall back down hard. They cry in pain. Dad hustles alongside.
“No, no, no,” she cries. She drives forward turning sharp. She scrapes along the wall of cars. Parts crumble down onto the truck. Dad must leap out of the way as a car slides down and hits his armored leg. A car flops onto the bed. Thankfully, the girls are down in the truck bed. Their armor protects them as the metal seems to claw and scrape their limbs. Mom drives forward and the car falls off with a crash. She makes the opening and drives forward. Dad trots alongside, grimacing and waving and yelling.
“Come on. Hurry, do it! Hurry! Go!”
He is spitting bile and froth and tears as nothing can stop The Horde.
She drives through quickly, distancing from him. He thinks of the motorcycle back at the house to lead them away. That would work. It was his chance.
His wife rolls on. Lena looks up to see her father in steel running behind, losing ground. Behind him, she sees the massive blur of something she can not comprehend. It is like a massive rolling ball or mound of swirling ooze, pouring through the streets, pushing over then covering cars and trucks. The sound of the cars getting crushed is expected but never comes because all sounds are intangible to the awesome noise of thousands and thousands of howling, growling zombies.
Her Dad waves to go, to go. Lena looks to see her mom looking through the rear view mirror. The look is one of goodbye. Lena looks at her Dad, falling far behind. A sharp turn has Lena slam into Lisa, both slamming against the truck bed.
The truck drives up their street to their house. Zombies are rushing down the street, sensing The Horde.
“Lena! Hurry, get up!”
Lena, beaten on all her limbs, strained in all her joints, must fix her helmet to see properly. All around her are zombies crashing against the truck. Lisa is still on her back and picks up a shield to block one but is helpless to fight. Mom opens the door. A zombie charges at the opening. She pulls up the shotgun and fires into its face. The neck and jaw shatter. It goes down.
“Die! Ahhhh!!” she screams in anger and pain. The shotgun was braced but instantly bruises her frail figure. Her armor helps. She cups the shotgun against it.
She steps out and aims up as zombies are climbing into the truck bed. She fires buckshot blowing many holes in the ones in front of her. The closest ones are obliterated and do not answer. The further ones with only a few buck shot penetrations contort and flop, but are still frantic for flesh.
She fires again, ripping apart two more. She pumps and fires again at others coming up. The adrenaline is overwhelming her pain.
“Lena! Get up! Fight them!”
Lena crying, finally gets up and swings the halberd wildly and too short. A zombie grabs the halberd and pulls itself onto the truck bed. Lena pushes it to the edge, where it flips over and falls cracking its head on pavement.
Lena turns to swing at another climbing up. The halberd goes deep into its neck, dropping it. Lena screams. Now in full adrenaline, she rips out the halberd and comes down on another. The halberd splits its head open.
She gets a moment to pull Lisa up, who gathers her sword and readies herself. She is shaking violently.
Mom pulls Charlotte out of her side, “Come on Charlotte. Come on!”
As she turns, a zombie slams against the door, smashing the door into her back, pulsing stunning pain up her spine.
Lena brings the halberd down on the scrambling zombie, hacking into its shoulder and stopping it. Her mother is bent over in pain on the driver's seat. Charlotte cries for her mom, “Are you okay, mommy. Mommy, please be okay?”
Her mom grabs her, grimacing, “Come on Charlotte. We have to go now.”
Lisa leaps down and hacks into the zombie stuck on Lena's halberd.
“Kill it Lisa! In the head!”
Lisa finally swings deep across the temple dropping the zombie.
It's more like Charlotte is supporting her mom than the other way around as they hobble up the sidewalk.
Dad turns the corner and is running up. The Horde soon follows, slamming cars behind him as it makes a wide turn. It's as if he just turned from a huge wave of water, crashing past him, but about to over flow him.
He waves for them to go, to hide. They quickly pass the gate and Rav4. Rondo, from out of nowhere, runs up too, his tail between his legs. He is shaking violently.
Dad looks back to see the zombies turning up the street, slamming into the store fronts and buildings where the momentum takes them. Zombies get crushed under by their own, disappearing under the massive Horde. He is tired, from the running, from the air, from the fear. He turns to see the bike. He has to get to it. But a smaller arm of The Horde turns down another street. The zombies leap and climb over cars bearing down at him. He hustles and cramps and can not exert the will, the power, to burst forth.
The girls are up the driveway but the zombies turn to them as well. No! They and The Horde now know and swarm toward the house. It is too late for all of them. In his frantic appeal to God, he has nothing but spittle and tears. Why God, is this the way it has to end?
He gets to the bike but zombies are all around it. He runs with the zombies as they are climbing over the fence to his wife and daughters. They run up behind him up the driveway, around the truck and bike. He slams his shield into many of them, hacking through. The Horde rushes past him on the street. He stands agape in his own driveway as a few zombies grab onto him. He deftly and instinctively kills them quickly.
The flailing h
ands of zombies reach for him but are swept away by their own momentum. Because of the quick turn onto the driveway, it is like the eye of a storm, or a wall of fire, a cliff wall of water rushes by him. He limps up the driveway, exhausted and shaking. The Horde corrects itself, as zombies splinter out and chase after him. Several jump on his back. He twirls to no avail. He rushes into the driveway, hitting them against the wall. They drop off. Instead of gripping him tight, they are scratching and clawing at him. He swings quickly at them, hacking off limbs.
The Horde swells over his fence, ripping it down. The hedges suddenly fly off as if being hit by a tornado. He runs to the back, down the driveway where ten zombies, then ten more, then ten more, then twenty more, are pouring around and over the Rav4, pushing it along. He runs to the ladder on the outside and climbs up. Zombies turn the corner at first unsure of where he is. They slam into the garage and guest house, shaking them. Many are slammed against the brick pavement by more zombies pouring in. But soon enough, they see him up the ladder and grab at the ladder. His wife with shotgun fires past him into the first zombies at the ladder, exploding heads and hands.
She fires again and again, into the swirling mass of zombies collecting. Each exploding zombie part disappears as more zombies fill in. The ladder is swept away. The foundations of the house are straining. Zombies leap and push. The porch supports in the rear are cracking and shuddering.
Dad rolls off those supports and onto the house roof. Lisa and Lena are hacking down with their halberds, a few swings cause a few limbs to fly. But Lena's halberd suddenly disappears in the mass and Lisa's soon after. They blink at the ferocity of the eddying swirl of zombies below them.
The whole house shudders. They wobble as the house gets impact after impact of zombies screeching and howling. The sounds drown out anything they can say. Dad is furious, frothing now and getting some sort of breath back. He motions for them into the attic. He pulls them toward, then pushes them inside the opening in the back roof.
A loud crackling can be heard up front. Glass and wood explode as zombies press forward. It is barely heard, if possible above the tumultuous roar of The Horde. The front of the house collapses. Dad can see it from here. Charlotte's sniper spot is gone. Is she!?
He looks through the opening as they crawl in. Mom is holding Charlotte, in the pillows and sheets, as the front of the attic is ripped away. At the rear, the zombies have collapsed the deck covering and are scrambling up the shoddy beams. Dad swings and swings at each climbing zombie, cutting and hacking many. They drop back into the swirl of zombies, an eddying force of grabbing hands, biting foul teeth, and angry white eyes.
The front collapses more. Charlotte is shooting her 22 at the zombies scrambling up the collapsed lattice work. Plenty fall into the crushed beams and wood of their home but as they do, they pile up for more to climb up. Charlotte fires silently, 22 bullets disappear into the chaotic swirl. Nothing of note.
Lisa and Lena cling to each other, to mom and to Charlotte, who after her last magazine is spent, hugs them back.
Dad has nothing now, nothing to believe, nothing to hold on to, nothing to love, swinging at head after head, nothing to hold on to, he has nothing, as the building around him collapses, pieces fly in all directions, like a tornado. Time slows to an amazing rate, as if a second were a thousand years, and he sees the flurry of hands grabbing up, blackened broken ripped off nails, dark dirty fingers of gray and decrepit skin, and biting gnashing broken teeth set in blackened puss-ridden gums. His flesh, his blood would go now, into all of this. He turns to see his wife huddled. She has them. They are together. He is with them and the end is now. All is well, for unlike many, he is with his family. He realizes the best way to end this, is quickly and in this way.
And the thought flashes, by his slow beating heart, that he has the .45 ready for him to use. He drops his sword. It flutters down into nothing, disappearing in the wave of hands. He tosses his shield. It seems to float down like a feather or a twirling seed pod and is crumpled and gone below. He aims his gun, at Charlotte first, at her head. She does not see it, for his wife keeps her vision away and only kisses it.
The front collapses more as zombies are pulling themselves upwards, only yards now before The Horde collapses it all. But even more incredulous is the full force of The Horde as it rears up just beyond. It takes over the gathering at the house, crushing its own to fulfill its full force. It will swipe the house away and all living matter.
The whole of Earth is shaking and quivering. Many hands grab to rip Dad apart, to tear him down. He tries to aim the .45 at his daughter, at his wife, but he is pulled back into the ocean of zombies. Hundreds of hands and mouths grip him. His helmet is twisted. He can not hear nor see his wife calling out to him, his daughter Lena and Charlotte, his loves. They are his life, his everything. God looks away.
29. Hellfire
He sees, as he feels the death grip all along his armor, the steel barbecue grill pushed up against him, in the swirl and eddying of the zombies pouring into the backyard. He sees the propane tank compartment. It's a full tank. He used it only that one time when this all started.
He reacts beyond all strength, ripping his limbs from dozens of gripping and ripping hands. He turns and grabs onto the grill, like a log floating in a storm. Frantically, yet as if time slowed he turns the knob and clicks on the starter button. He rolls over to click it some more. With his pistol grip, he thinks he turned a knob. He can't tell. He can't hear. He is pulled away. He tries desperately to pull and push toward it, but he is yanked away by a sudden river of zombies. Its feet away, now yards.
As he twirls, floating in the eddy of zombies, he looks up and sees his gun hand aligning with the grill. He fires. A hole in the metal? He is not sure. He has nothing left, so he fires again and again and again and again and a sudden burst of fire and flash closes his eyes. He flies, rolling end over end, smashing right above his wife and children, into the roof. Flimsy asphalt tiles flutter as thousands of zombie parts explode and fly past him. The entire side of the garage is blasted and on fire, and the back is suddenly clear, not in any clean sense of the word but lying in that blackened fanned out fallen exploded zombie parts way. Dad rolls on the roof, looking down. He remembers where he is.
He can't hear the roar of The Horde, now in its sudden lull. Somehow, the explosive shockwave has overwhelmed their senses and his as well. The ringing pain in his ears engulfs and protects him from the overwhelming fear. He rolls down the roof. He falls onto the ground, splatting atop zombie parts. He has no time for pleasantries as he hobbles over bodies of squirming inflamed zombies to the garage. He finds his two extra propane tanks. He unscrews the valve on one. It catches flame and becomes a flamethrower of epic swathing fury. He lumbers down the driveway and sets it on the ground. It blows fire into the stunned yet forming zombies. They catch fire with amazing ferocity. Their dry skin and clothes explode in a torrential inferno. He doesn't bother to enjoy it. He goes back to get the other one. He picks it up, turns open the gas and heats himself up quite quickly as the gas catches flame and bursts forward. He controls the burn, big enough but not too big. He walks back down and sets it on the other side. It burns through masses of standing zombies that were pushing forward.
And finally, to top it all off he gets the five gallon container of backup gas for his cars and frantically carries it out. He gets to the last standing structure at the back of his house. Before him, a wall of tangled and crushed and hording zombies are mixed in the collapsed frame and lattice work of the crumbled structure. He can sense the mass of zombies climbing up the latticework above him, many limbs sticking through, breaking the woodwork. He opens the container and splatters them all with gas, tossing the container into the wall of grabbing arms.
He looks up at his wife and girls. He can not see them, huddled there above the kitchen support frame. He clambers up and as the fire rushes in on the gas and the fury of flames rises on all sides, spreading and leaping, he climbs up as a dark silhoue
tte. They shirk in terror at his smoking visage but then recognize him. He reaches for them to come. He waves for them. They scramble to him. But as Lena and Lisa roll over and climb down the broken walls, his wife in tears unrolls to show Charlotte, her leg armor ripped off, her small calf with several deep bite marks. His wife, in utter tears, with no anguish has only horrific shame that she did not protect her child from one small grievous and deadly wound. She weakly tries to get Charlotte to move. Charlotte grabs deathly tight to her mother, a silent scream, so painful. She has no capacity to make noise.
The flames burst up all around them. A fury of zombie howls echoes beyond the wall of burning flesh and wood.
Dad climbs up to take Charlotte. She is still, as if dead but with eyes wide open. Her glance at the flames is the only clue she is still aware. He has her, his wife has her, as his wife cries and climbs down with him. Flames lick everywhere and the heat is overwhelming, exhausting. The smoke is of death, burning death, of burning searing flesh. The smoke itself plumes forth and is like a vast wall covering everything around them. They can not see beyond it. The walls of rolling smoke expand toward them.
Dad pulls Lena and Lisa along. They crawl back through the kitchen, to the backyard, as flaming zombies march through, collapsing in huge piles in the back. It is a mound of fire and smoke billowing at them from all sides.
They back away and crawl under the frames to the bedroom, back through, as glass bursts and fiery zombie limbs reach in, blindly, burning, twirling. Walls collapse with fiery beams buckling. They crawl again, together, under the blinding black smoke. Dad remembers even with his frantic fear for Charlotte on his back, dying of smoke inhalation or dying from the bite. He remembers. He finds it, the door in the bathroom, the door in the floor. The small basement hatchway. He pulls it open and waves for Lena and Lisa to go down under the house, into the small foundation sanctuary. They roll down the concrete steps painfully. He drops Charlotte at the entrance. His wife is not seen. She did not make it. He pulls off his burning helmet and drops it down the stairs.
Knight of the Dead (Book 1): Knight of the Dead Page 26