Frank took out his service pistol and put both down with accurate head shots.
Tommy and Sean ran to the back of the restaurant through the kitchen and stopped at the rear exit. They both looked at each other, and then Tommy hit the push bar and opened the door. Looking out he saw that it led to an alleyway that ran the length of the block. There were no undead in the entire alley. Turning to Sean, Tommy said, “Get the rest, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Sean ran back. Linda was right there waiting with Manny. Sean yelled out to everyone, “The back exit is clear. Come on; let’s go. We’ll—”
As Manny, Linda, and Paul passed him, an excruciatingly loud creaking and then wrenching sound came from above them. Malik yelled, “The roof’s caving in!”
With that, the entire ceiling sagged and, with a large crack, collapsed. Frank had just aimed his handgun at another entering zombie when he looked up. The last thing he saw was a steel girder and a ton of rubble coming toward his head.
The entire front of the large restaurant collapsed. Fortunately, the right side of the building had enough stability to stay intact for another ten minutes. Equally fortunate was that the majority of the survivors ran that way. Through the massive cloud of dust and debris in the air, Sean yelled into the mangled interior. “Call out. Are you all right? Yell out to me.”
He could hear several people hollering. “We’re okay.”
“We are alive.” Sean distinctly heard Mike’s voice.
The five people at the rear exit tried and tried but couldn’t find a way through the kitchen to get to the rest of the group. They were all clawing at the mountain of rubble, throwing chunks aside, and trying to dig through. The wall between the kitchen and the front dining area had come down, exposing the whole expanse to the street. The zombies were already entering, climbing around the jumble of girders, rebar, concrete, and crushed tables and chairs. Even as the five ramped up their efforts, they realized it was a futile attempt. A male zombie in a police officer’s uniform clambered into the kitchen, moaning and hissing. Paul Chen reached over to a cluttered workstation and grabbed a dusty meat cleaver. Picking it up, he turned to the oncoming ghoul and, with one mighty whack, cleaved his head open. As he turned back to his digging, he paused. Then he bent over the body and undid the holster. Ripping it off, he stood up and called to Linda. “Here, put this on. You can use this.”
She grabbed it and then buckled the heavy gun and holster around her waist. All of the bullet compartments were still full.
As more and more undead entered, Tommy stopped and, cupping his hands around his mouth, called to the trapped people, “Do you see another way out?”
“Yes,” Mike answered from behind the retaining wall. “There is a busted window in the back. I think we can fit through.”
“There are too many zombies coming in at us,” Tommy yelled. “We’ve got to go. When you get out, head to 826. We’ll try to stay there and wait for you. We’ll draw as many Zs away from here as we can. Good luck.”
The five of them then backed up toward the intact back door. Drawing their weapons, they took down ten of the undead with head shots. Still seeing many more entering the wreckage, they exited the door, leaving it propped open to draw the zombies out of the building and away from the area.
While Sean, Tommy, Linda, Manny, and Paul ran down the alleyway ahead of the zombies and Mike, Susan, Jack, Jamal, Carol, Travis, Konrad, and Carlos were quietly removing the broken window glass so they could crawl out and run in the other direction, Malik and Regina found themselves trapped under the rubble. They were standing together right next to the bus roof when the building came down on top of them. Luckily for them, the girder that crushed Frank also hit the overturned bus. It formed a cover that kept most of the large debris from landing on the two of them. Malik had just started to dig out when the first of the zombies began entering the collapsed front of the restaurant. He immediately stopped, and he and Regina backed farther into their pocket of rubble. They saw behind them that the front windshield of the bus had blown out from the girder falling on it. They entered the bus through the opening and, crawling on their bellies, squeezed through the partially crushed metal body so that they could hide in the back.
Mike and his group had finally removed all the jagged shards of glass from the side window. He stuck his head out and looked around. Not seeing any undead near, he turned back to the rest of them and said, “It looks clear out there. We’re blocked off from the zombies in the store, and I don’t think they know we’re here. Quietly, we’ll get out and make a run for it up the street. We’ll have to hurry, though. This was a corner building, and it won’t stay clear for long.”
Everyone nodded and got ready. Mike went through the opening and dropped to the sidewalk. He crouched on one knee and looked around again. The undead in front of the store were so concentrated on getting inside that they didn’t even glance around the corner. Miraculously, the cross street was clear of zombies. Mike stood and stuck his head over the sill.
“Okay, we’re clear,” he whispered.
Susan’s body came through next. Mike grabbed her and helped her down. Carol came through after her. Then Jack, Carlos, and Konrad. It was now down to Travis and Jamal. With Travis’s arm broken, he couldn’t lift himself, even with Jamal’s help. Jamal grabbed a table in the room and dragged it over to the window. Unfortunately, the noise that effort made was heard by the massing undead on the other side of the wall of debris. Now, half of the zombies were following Sean and the rest who had gotten out the rear door and run down the alley, and the other half now started tearing at the masonry and wallboard that separated them from the group now trying to escape.
This abrupt change in demographics rippled back into the ranks of undead now on the street. The confusion on the avenue led some of the zombies to veer to the side. In doing so, they finally spotted the group of survivors huddled beneath the side window. Seeing their prey escaping their clutches, the snarling undead came up the intersection after them.
Carol grabbed Jack’s arm. Pointing toward the corner she yelled, “Oh shit, they see us. Hurry. The zombies are coming for us.”
Jamal helped Travis onto the table. After getting up, Travis bent over and swung his leg out the window. Grabbing the sill with his good hand, he guided himself out. Jack and Konrad helped him down. Travis had his broken arm tucked in close to his body to protect the appendage. Mike and Carol were shooting any zombies that got near. By the time Travis was safely down and Jamal had made it through the window, the two shooters had more targets than they could handle.
Michael looked back and, seeing everyone now outside, yelled, “Okay, let’s get the hell out of here.”
The eight of them turned and ran down the cross street. The road was impassable to vehicular traffic because of all the abandoned and wrecked cars. The group had to snake its way through the maze of vehicles. They passed an accident where a white Jaguar had sideswiped four parked cars and then smashed into the rear of a two-seater Mazda, running halfway up the little car so that its front wheels were over the little car’s front seats. Its occupants, now under the Jaguar’s undercarriage, were reduced to a thin stream of blood that seeped its way out of the bent and half-open doors. Having been thrown, unbelted, through the windshield, the Jaguar’s driver was lying draped across the white hood.
Passing close to the wreckage, Travis heard a gurgling sound. As he turned his head to look for the source of the sound, the body lying across the hood turned its head toward him. It made another gurgling hiss. Black blood ran from its ravaged, jagged-toothed mouth and spattered onto the hood. Before Travis could react, the zombie reached out and grabbed ahold of his broken forearm. Travis screamed in agony. As the now-animated ghoul yanked his arm closer, Travis fell to his knees, screaming curses. Behind him, Carol reached into her belt and pulled out a machete she had brought. Sighting on the zombie’s outstretched arm, she raised her weapon and swiftly brought it down. As a metallic clang reson
ated from the white hood, the now-severed arm slid down the Jaguar and fell onto the street. Jamal bent down and, reaching under Travis’s good arm, hoisted him to his feet. The white-faced, injured soldier stumbled and then recovered his bearings, and they all continued their flight.
The once-clear road had now attracted the attention of the undead. Reaching the next intersection, they tried to turn left only to find their way blocked by two dozen zombies coming toward them. Left with no other choice and a mass of zombies still closely following them, they continued up the street. As the desperate group zigzagged its way forward, dodging vehicles and the occasional zombie emerging from open doorways and smashed storefronts, Konrad started falling behind. He had always smoked too much. His desk job back in the engineering firm in Germany coupled with a lack of any exercise took a large toll on his lung capacity. Konrad Stasser was having trouble catching his breath when a coughing fit seized him. He leaned up against the cracked glass of a shop. Jack had looked back when he heard the loud hacking noise Konrad was making.
“Konrad,” he yelled, “you can’t stop!”
Konrad stood up slightly, waving one arm up at Jack while the other was cupped to his face.
“Ja, ja,” he said between coughs. “I come, I come.”
He looked up and saw, ironically, that he had stopped in front of a tobacco shop. An amused smile started to form on his lips until he dropped his head to gaze at eye level through the window he was leaning against. “Mein Gott in Himmel!” he gagged.
Two ragged zombies, one fat sporting a mustache and a missing eye, the other middle-aged with a large, ragged hole where his stomach had been, suddenly appeared out of nowhere from inside the store and rushed at him through the cracked plate glass. A loud crash sounded as the entire front window blew out, and the two zombies fell upon Konrad.
Carol was too far ahead, and Jamal was helping Travis. Jack ran back and, raising his rifle to his shoulder, took a shot that hit the fat zombie in the head. Konrad and the other creature were on the ground, rolling back and forth. Jack couldn’t get a clear shot.
“Knock him off you,” he shouted.
Just then, the disemboweled zombie got Konrad on his back. As he raised his head and opened his mouth to take a bite, Jack shot him in the bridge of the nose, blowing his brains against the panel truck behind him. The German engineer scrambled to his feet, breathing noisily through his open mouth. His wire glasses had been knocked off during the scuffle. He looked around wildly, making a keening sound as he panicked, trying to get his bearings. Jack could see bite marks on his face and hands.
“Konrad!” Jack called.
The engineer’s head kept darting from side to side, wild-eyed. He was hyperventilating.
“Konrad! This way.”
Looking now at Jack, they locked eyes for several seconds. Dropping his head, Konrad looked down at his hands. He raised his head again and said, “He bit me.” Konrad raised his hands toward Jack. “See, he bit me.”
“Okay, okay,” yelled Jack, “just come on.”
As the German took a step forward, the first of the zombies that were following them came around the panel truck and fell upon him. They surrounded him, biting and clawing, as he just stood there frozen with fright. Just before disappearing from view, he let out a blood-curdling scream.
The undead surrounding La Cortina Restaurante either entered the shattered building to follow their ilk out the back to the alley to chase after Sean’s group or marched down the side street to join the mob following Mike and his group. The street corner gradually emptied of the zombie herd.
Malik and Regina crawled down the length of the overturned bus and carefully peered out the back window. The glass was shattered and lying in the street, the frame bent so the opening was folded almost in two. Lying on her stomach, Regina whispered, “I can see the last of them disappearing around the corner. They’re almost all gone.”
“We should probably wait an extra ten minutes,” Malik said, “to make sure the last of them are long gone.”
“Okay.”
Lying together on the side of the overturned bus, Regina and Malik continued surreptitiously monitoring the movements of the undead. The moaning, growling, and snarling from the creatures gradually faded as they shambled after the two separated groups. Malik crawled a little farther out.”
“It looks pretty clear,” Malik whispered over his shoulder.
“Go ahead,” Regina said. “I’m right behind you.”
They crawled through the opening and into the street. Quickly standing, they looked around. There were two or three zombies walking up the street toward them. Regina tapped Malik on the upper arm and said, “Let me lead the way. I know this area.”
“You do?” questioned Malik.
“Yeah,” said Regina with an ironic smirk. “I live about two miles away. We’ll head to my house, regroup, and rearm.”
“Okay,” said Malik with a shrug. “After you.”
They both started up the street, picking their way between vehicles. Making their way almost a mile up the now-deserted road, they finally stopped at an intersection.
“We have to go left here,” said Regina softly, “then take the first right. About two miles up that side street is my house.”
They were both crouched against an empty taxicab with all four doors wide open. Regina had just stood up when Malik grabbed her and pulled her back down.
“Wait a minute,” he whispered. “Look.”
He pointed to the far right corner. The zombie had just stepped off the curb and was waddling to the middle of the intersection. He was well over six feet tall and weighed a good 450 pounds. All he had on was a pair of tattered blue jeans. They were stiff with blood and body fluids. His ragged, bloody, bare feet left a trail as he scraped them along the asphalt. He had a blackened bite mark on his forearm that was his obvious point of infection. The zombie had attacked other people, as he had bits of flesh hanging from his teeth, and he was covered with dried blood from his mouth all the way down his huge belly that was hanging over his jeans. He must have been one of the first turned. His greenish-gray flesh was mottled and showed dark veins spreading under the waxy skin. Clusters of pustules were forming on his head and body. Some had broken and were leaking a vile, bilious, creamy fluid. He stank to high heaven. Whenever he took a plodding step, a swarm of flies rose and then landed back down on him. As he got closer, Malik could see maggots moving among the open, festering sores.
Regina gagged. Malik put his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, I know,” he whispered. “That’s really bad.”
Peering through the open door, Malik said, “Start tapping at the end of the bumper. Draw his attention and get him to head that way. I want to get behind him.”
Making his way to the front fender, he turned and nodded to Regina. She in turn started tapping her pistol against the rear bumper. Malik reached down and drew a large hunting knife from the scabbard on his belt.
Tap…tap, tap…tap…tap.
The obese zombie turned his head toward the sound. Flies rose around him.
Tap, tap…tap.
A low growl came from his throat.
Tap, tap, tap.
Opening his gory mouth, he hissed. Congealed black blood oozed over his lips. Then he took a step toward the taxi.
Tap…tap.
Gaining momentum, he slowly plodded his way toward the tapping noise. His hands rose slightly, fingers curling and uncurling in anticipation. A louder growl issued from his vile mouth. Regina gave a final tap as he neared and then, still crouched, backed up the length of the taxi. Malik waited until the ghoul passed him and then slid around the front bumper. Crouching down, he came up behind him. The zombie reached the rear bumper and took a step around. No one was there. Standing still with a bewildered expression on his face, he was now the perfect target. Malik quickly stood, took two steps toward him, and, swinging his right arm in a wide, sweeping arc, drove the large blade into the creature’s ear. With a wet crunch,
the knife drove into his skull up to the hilt. Tottering for a moment, the zombie went down as if pole-axed. All 450 pounds landed on his huge, bloated belly. It split open like a wet sack, and the most vile, putrid stench rose up, causing Malik, who’d seen almost everything, to turn his head and throw up. Regina came around the taxi with a handkerchief over her face. Even then, she kept her distance. Malik came up to her, eyes tearing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Oh my God,” he croaked. “I have never smelled anything that rank in my life. Christ!”
“Let’s get out of here,” Regina said. He agreed.
The two ran to the left and then turned up Regina’s street. They ran on, leaving the downtown behind, and headed into the residential area.
The survivors from Key West were now separated into three groups and spread all over the city. They knew where they had to meet up but getting there and, more importantly, getting there in one piece, would prove to be harder than they could ever have imagined.
13
Steve, Max, Ana, and Luke came to the crossroad leading to the Florida Turnpike. As they stopped and tried to catch their breath, they looked around. From the road to their left, they could see a group of zombies about half a mile away that was heading their way. The road they just had come from ended at this three-way intersection. There were gated communities lining both sides of the road all the way to the turnpike, which was about a quarter of a mile up the road. Only four zombies stood between them and the turnpike entrance ramp.
“Oh, thank God,” gasped Ana.
Losing their sense of urgency now, the foursome walked toward the overpass that spanned over the road. As the first two zombies shambled over to them, Max reached for the side arm he had taken.
Pandora 2: Death is not an Option Page 12