by Davis, James
“Tell me that wasn’t the damn keys Bud!” Johnny shouted, looking up at Buds sweaty features. The sheriff didn’t reply. He just continued to stare down at the growing number of zeds below them.
“Bud tell me that wasn’t the goddamn keys!” Johnny screamed louder this time, breaking Buds focus on the infected crowd below.
“I’m sorry.” Bud said, shaking his head with shame.
“I will not be eaten alive because of your dumb ass!” Roosevelt shouted as he pulled his pistol from his hip and aimed it down at the closet zed. He fired a round into the things face, showering the ones below it in brains and blood. Johnny followed suit and together they dropped fifteen more which fell on top of the pile and stopped the zeds advance for the moment. Roosevelt stared at his pistol for a long second and then snapped his gaze up at Bud.
“Shoot the damn thing!” He shouted, pointing up at the small lock. Bud finally snapped back to normal and gave a single nod in response. He pulled out the revolver on his left hip and pressed the barrel to the side of the lock.
“What about the ricochet?” Bud asked before pulling the trigger.
“No choice! Just do it!” Roosevelt and Johnny both screamed at the older man above them. Bud didn’t hesitate again, he squeezed the trigger and the shot echoed in their heads making their ears ring instantly as the bullet smashed into the lock and bounced off into the steel hatch above and then down into Johnny.
Chapter Nineteen
9:43 a.m. January 4, 2049
Richey’s Truckstop
Sweetwater, Tennessee
“Shit!” Johnny screamed as the deformed bullet punched through his shoulder ripping skin and muscle as it passed through his body. Blood leaked from the wound down into the crowd of zeds causing them to go into a feeding frenzy none of them had ever seen before. Bud ripped the destroyed lock off the hatch and flung it open. Sunlight blasted him in the face as he climbed out onto the roof. He turned back to help Johnny out and then Roosevelt before slamming the hatch closed again.
“Let me see it!” Roosevelt said, dropping down to his knees next to Johnny. The searing pain caused him to writhe on the ground as Roosevelt ripped Johnny’s shirt off and used it to wipe away some of the blood so he could see the damage done to his friend's shoulder. A small hole went in through the front part of his shoulder while a large gaping hole the size of a half dollar was in the back.
“Punched clean through. You’ll be fine in a few weeks.” Roosevelt stated as he used Johnny's shirt to put pressure on the larger wound.
“Hold this in place!” He said over his shoulder to Bud. The older man dropped down next to Johnny and held the shirt in place while Roosevelt stood up and ripped off his own shirt. He handed his shirt to Bud and said.
“Use this for the front wound. I’m going to find a way to get some help out here.” Bud did as he was told as Roosevelt darted across the roof to the front of the building.
“Johnny I’m sorry about this.” Bud started but Johnny cut him off.
“Don’t worry about that right now. You had to do it, now just focus on stopping the bleeding.” Bud nodded and added more pressure to the two wounds causing Johnny to hiss in pain.
Roosevelt stopped at the front edge and glanced around. To his left, on the edge of the building a metal ladder sat attached to the side. He turned and ran toward the ladder and leaned over the side of the building. Zombies surrounded the building, four or five deep in some spots. The monsters below showed no sign of any sign of being interested in anything other than getting to their next meal that waited inside. Roosevelt watched for a long second as zombie after zombie slammed their mass into the wall before bouncing off and charging again.
He turned around deciding that this was not a path he was prepared to take and ran back to the front of a building.
"Shit!" He cursed, realizing the only option to get off this building and find help.
The fuel island stood several yards away from the edge of the station. He stared for a moment, calculating the distance, and contemplating if he could even make it. Deciding he had no choice, he turned and jogged to the back side of the building. He leaned back against knelt, getting into position as if he were an Olympic sprinter, drew in a few short breaths, and took off full speed across the building. The cold wind was painful as it connected with the sweat that rolled down his chest in large drops as he raced across the rooftop.
He quickly reached the opposite side of the building and launched himself out into the open air. He reached out as far as his arms could go as he quickly realized the island was farther than he had thought. He barely managed to grab the edge. He grasped and grabbed, his knuckles turning white as he secured his grip. Roosevelt held on tightly, sucking in deep breaths, his body still dangling above the ground.
The sound of his impact with the island drew many of the dead away from the storefront. They raced over and were now congregating directly beneath him like hungry lions waiting for a hunk of meat to be tossed into the cage. The zeds groaned and growled, some jumping at the meal that hung in front of them. The roof was high enough that Roosevelt was in no danger as long as he kept his grip. He risked a peek at the scene below him and quickly cursed himself for looking.
"Uh, uh!" Roosevelt grunted, gritting his teeth, and gathering his remaining energy.
In a quick motion, he pulled himself up with his fingertips and managed to throw his right arm onto the roof and steady himself enough to bring the left. He grunted once more as he hoisted the rest of his body up and rolled onto his back.
"Whoo!" He exclaimed as his bare skin met the cold metal of the roof. He bolted upright and looked over the edge. The roof shook and swayed as the zombies slammed into the posts holding it up.
Roosevelt made it to the island but appeared to be in no better spot than he was on the store roof as more and more zeds bolted from the store front to investigate the fuel pumps. He peered around and spotted no ladders. He raced to the far edge of the roof and looked over. Seeing nothing but walking corpses, he turned and ran toward the other end. The view was almost the same, dead, dead, and more dead. A black Freightliner with a long sleeper and tall smokestacks protruded from underneath and a long sticker that read Rollin’ Coal ran across the back of the cab.
“This is probably going to hurt.” Roosevelt said, seeing the distance down to the top of the trailer. It was several feet to the top of the trailer and there was no room at all for error or to roll out of the jump. He was going to have to keep his roll to a minimum, so he didn’t fly off the other side and smack the ground. He took a few deep breaths and climbed over the edge of the roof, letting his legs dangle down. The zeds hadn’t spotted his next move yet, so he was spared from having to see the dead mangled faces staring up at him as he dropped to the roof of the trailer. Roosevelt didn’t think or count to three this time he just knew what had to be done and did it. He landed hard, almost stiff legging the impact but managed to get a half roll in before his legs snapped in half. His legs flopped over the edge of the trailer and he dug his palms in to slow his slide only barley able to stop himself from going over.
“Thank you, baby Jesus!” He said with a huff as he stood up and moved toward the cab of the truck. The old Freightliner was a two-man truck and had a skylight above the top bunk of the cab. He slid down to the hood of the truck and used the butt of his pistol to smash in the skylight for access. The smell coming from inside was enough to gag a maggot as he poked his head inside to check it out. A huge fat zed sat sideways in the front seat, shirt off, and moobs a floppin'. Dried noodles fell from his grey beard as it spotted Roosevelt and started to reach for him.
“Not today tubby!” Roosevelt said, aiming his Kimber and firing a round into the top of the fat man’s skull. The bullet didn’t exit the body and there was little blood that left the wound which made Roosevelt even happier as he climbed down into the cab, opened the driver’s side door and pushed the dead zed out into the parking lot. Th
e herd of zombies spotted him as he opened the door, but they were not fast enough to get all the way to him before he slammed the door closed, shoving a giant bowl of ramen off the dash. The bowl hit the floor and the noodles splattered across the floor.
“Now how the hell do you drive one of these?” He muttered to himself as he studied the shift pattern on the top of the gear shifter. He spotted a sort of a manual on the side of the dash and looked at it and then the shifter. Noticing that the shifter had a high and low gear selector he figured out that the low gears were first through fifth and sixth through tenth were the high gears.
“Alright I got this. Easy as pie.” He said, not really believing his own words. He found the keys and used his left foot to push in the clutch before twisting the key. The engine shook the entire cab as it slowly rumbled to life. Black smoke rolled out of the smokestacks and a high-pitch whine sounded every time Roosevelt would tap the throttle. A loud beep filled the cab as he sat there staring at the gauges. He watched as two of them that read psi at the bottom began to rise. When the gauges reached fifty psi the beeping stopped, giving Roosevelt time to gather his thoughts. He went over the shift pattern in his head and then reverted back to an old five speed Honda he used to have as a teen.
“Can’t be that hard. Nothing to it but to do it.” He said out loud to no one before pushing in the red and yellow air brake releases. He held his foot on the brake and the other on the clutch as he pulled the shifter back to the low left position which was first gear. He eased out on the clutch, but his foot slipped off causing the big truck to jump forward a few feet and violently shake from side to side before the engine shut off. He let out a long breath and started the big engine again.
“Come on baby, don’t let me down.” He said as he eased out on the clutch again. This time, the truck lurched forward and the engine revved loudly as he tried to shift into second, but the gears kept grinding making him cringe each time he tried to put it in gear. After the engine wound back down, he was able to shift into second and gain a bit more speed. He ran into the same problem over and over for the next ten minutes until he finally figured out that the engine had to be revved to a certain rpm before it would slip into gear. Once he realized this his only problem was remembering the high and low side of the gears. He guided the big truck toward the truck stop exit and took the turn onto the main road into town without stopping. The trailer dropped down into a ditch and destroyed a stop sign as he took the corner to sharp. Once he made it onto the road that led into town, he made up time by shifting up to tenth gear and cruised all the way back into town.
Chapter Twenty
11:11 a.m. January 4, 2049
Sweetwater, Tennessee
Townspeople ran out of houses with their guns drawn down on the semi as it rolled to a stop at the barricade. The people were nervous and ready to fire as Roosevelt flung open his door and climbed down from the big truck. He was waving his arms and yelling for help as he ran toward the group of people coming out of their homes.
“That's Roosevelt!” Mary said to the group before heading down the steps to greet the shirtless man.
“Oh my, what happened to you, poor thing?” Mary said as she used her hand towel to dab the sweat off his muscled up dark skin.
“You ok Miss Mary? You’re looking at me like I’m a juicy steak or something.” Roosevelt said, confused with the old woman.
“Oh yeah honey, I’m just fine.” She said in a breathy voice.
“What’s going on?” A man asked as he ran up next to Roosevelt.
“Horde trapped us at the truck stop. I barely got this piece of crap back here. We need to go help Johnny and Bud. They're both on top of the truck stop and Johnny has a bullet wound that needs to be looked at.” Roosevelt explained, shivering from the cold.
“Mary go grab him a shirt while we get everyone together and ready to go.” The man said.
“Alright Dwight don’t be so damn bossy!’ Mary replied in an annoyed tone. She quickly turned and stormed off back to the house. Dwight chuckled.
“I think Miss Mary is sweet on you.” Roosevelt looked at Dwight in horror at the thought of the extremely old white woman hitting on him.
“No, she's just super nice.” Roosevelt said, not totally convinced himself. Dwight chuckled again.
“Keep telling yourself that.” He said as more and more men ran up to the truck.
“Anyone else here know how to drive that stupid thing?” Roosevelt asked, pushing Mary far from his mind.
“I can.” Dwight replied before turning to address the rest of the men. Mary came back out with a black pocket tee shirt and handed it to Roosevelt with a wink and then turned to head back inside out of the cold.
“Alright guys, Johnny and Bud are trapped on top of Richey’s. There's a horde out there that needs some Sweetwater love! Load up in the trailer and I’ll drive us back down there to kick some zombie ass!” Dwight said, getting a cheer from the crowd of men. Seconds later, all the men were piling into the semi’s trailer while Dwight and Roosevelt climbed into the cab.
“Stinks in here.” Dwight said, waving a hand in front of his face.
“There was an extremely overweight zed in here when I got the truck. Had to kill it and toss it out before heading back here.” Roosevelt said. Dwight looked in his side mirror to see the last of the men climb into the truck. They had locked the doors open so they could jump out and start killing zeds immediately. Dwight put the truck in reverse and started backing down the road like an expert until reaching a wide-open field where he spun the wheel and guided the trailer into the tall yellow weeds. After turning the truck around Dwight quickly had the truck up to fifty miles an hour, cruising down the road. When he spotted the first signs of the horde they were barely out of the town. The horde was sprinting down the road toward the semi and the town, so Dwight slowed the truck, stopping in the middle of the road. Men jumped out by the pairs and darted to the front and began opening fire on the horde. Automatic gunfire filled the crisp winter air, sounding like a wintertime war zone. Zeds fell by the dozens, lifeless for a second and final time in the middle of the road as more and more of the men ran forward to help hold the advancing monsters back.
“Fall back!” Dwight screamed as the horde pushed on by the hundreds. There were just entirely too many for the hundred or so men to hold off. Roosevelt snatched an AK-47 from one of the men's hands that had turned to run and continued firing on the advancing zeds until the bolt locked back. Roosevelt turned and darted back to the cab of the truck and climbed in next to Dwight as he waited for his men to get in the trailer, but it was too late. The horde was full of sprinting monsters and they were on his men in a flash. Screams of terror and pain filled the air as the zeds tore into Dwight's men, biting anything they could get their teeth on.
“Get in the damn trailer!” Dwight screamed as he watched his fellow townsmen being eaten alive. Blood and guts were strewn all over the pavement as more of the zeds rushed in to feast on the human smorgasbord.
“To hell with this!” He said, firing up the big engine and jamming into gear. He aimed the truck at the advancing horde of monsters slamming into at least thirty of them. The front row of the zeds were crushed by the impact causing the skin on most of their faces to tear away in bloody chunks from the constant pressure of the front grill of the truck. The rest were crushed by the sheer weight of the truck rolling over their bodies as they fell from the impact. Dwight threw the truck into reverse and backed up into another large group of the dead, the bottom of the trailer catching a line of the zeds and cutting them in half at the waist.
“You need to lead them away from the town!” Roosevelt said over the screaming engine. Dwight looked over at him as he slammed into another group piled up on top of some of his men that had already been taken down earlier. The coppery smell of blood filled the air as Dwight backed up and pulled forward over countless bodies whether they were his men that were already dead or not. He slammed the tru
ck into fourth gear and gunned the engine, but the road was so covered in gore that the tires couldn’t catch traction. Smoke began to roll from the tires as the blood on the pavement heated up and started to mix with the melting rubber of the tires giving the air a disgusting stench. The tires broke through the gore and hit pavement sending the truck lurching down the road as the cab rocked back and forth. Dwight continued forward back to the truck stop in an attempt to lead the massive number of zeds away from the town.
“It’s working!” Roosevelt shouted, watching in the side mirror as Dwight hammered down and grabbed another gear. Ahead he could see the Bronco hauling ass toward them in the distance. A crackling sound of static sounded above Roosevelts head followed by a familiar voice.
“Rosie, is that you?” Johnny's voice sounded over the CB radio. Roosevelt snatched the mic hanging down by a black bungie and pressed the transmit button.
“Turn around now! This horde is the biggest we’ve ever seen! Get out of here!” Roosevelt shouted into the mic as he watched the old fire chiefs truck race toward them.
“What can we do to help?” Johnny asked.
“Just turn around and pace ahead of us while we work out a plan.” Roosevelt replied. He watched the old red bronco slow to a stop and turn around. The Bronco paced ahead of the blood covered semi a quarter of a mile while they continued to talk over the radio trying to hash out a plan.
“What happened back there?” Johnny asked.
“Damn horde took out damn near all of the town's men before the fight ever got started. We had to fall back almost immediately.” Roosevelt replied.
“How many made out?” Bud's voice said into the radio.
Dwight took the mic and said, “We’re not sure Bud. They were supposed to get into the trailer, but the zeds were just too damn fast. They slaughtered us man.”
“What about the rest of the town?” Bud asked.