Die Dead Enough

by Kenney, William

  "Just turn around, Bo," Klaus said nervously. "Head back the way we came. There's no getting through here."

  Bo squinted his eyes. He could just see a developing line of darkness at the front of the column.

  "Turn around, Bo. You gotta turn around," urged Klaus.

  "Shit, it's all zombies," Conor said, pointing. The darkness in the distance became the skeletal bodies of the undead, rushing forward among the cars, smashing vehicles and tearing the occupants free. "Go, Bo! Go now!"

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bo slapped the gearshift up into Reverse and stepped on the gas, immediately ramming a car that had moved up behind him. This gave him enough room to pull the van out of the line. As they turned, the first zombie smashed into its side, talon-like fingers digging into the edge of the door, pulling with impossible strength, its wretched face pressed against the window beside Klaus. He gripped the door handle, pulling it toward him and slapping the door lock down, to be certain it was engaged.

  Three more zombies jumped onto the van as Bo completed the turn and began to accelerate. The highway heading east had grown far worse in the few minutes that they had wasted in the line, many cars sitting incapacitated, having struck groups of the undead. Bo swerved onto the shoulder to get around some of these stalls, then got back on the road, swinging the steering wheel back and forth to throw the creatures off of their vehicle.

  Then Klaus' window abruptly shattered, the shards showering his lap with bits of glass as the zombie on the other side lurched forward, its chomping face inches from his cheek. Klaus threw himself back, smashing into Bo's shoulder, sending the van to one side as he kicked out with both feet, knocking several of the monster's teeth out. The sweet, rotting smell was enough to make their eyes water.

  Before anyone could react another decomposing face thrust itself into the window opening, hands grabbing at Klaus' legs as he kicked like mad to knock them away. Aiden struck the zombies in their heads with the butt of his rifle with very little effect.

  "Get 'em off me!" Klaus shouted, his back pressed against Bo as the creatures pulled themselves farther inside the van on their chests. "Shoot 'em! Shoot 'em!"

  Outside they could hear more bodies striking the van as additional zombies moved onto the highway.

  "Klaus, kick the door open! Open the door, Klaus!" Conor shouted, aiming and shooting one of the zombies in the forehead. The sound was deafening inside the van, everyone's ears ringing in the close quarters. Black blood sprayed out the back of the thing's head and a trickle ran down between its yellow eyes as it came back at Klaus. It resumed pulling and tearing at Klaus' shirt, trying to pull him close enough to bite. Its teeth snapped the air just in front of his face.

  Klaus managed to hook the toe of his shoe in the door handle and wedge it outward. Kicking with the other foot, he knocked the door wide open. The two writhing zombies dangled in the window, grasping at one another for a moment, then slipping free to crash against the pavement where they were swept away, limbs flopping about like rag dolls.

  Horns blared as other motorists fled the horde, some not quickly enough as they were dragged from their vehicles and torn to pieces. Bo reached the end of the highway, drove under a bridge and made a sharp left at a stop sign.

  "Jesus, Klaus, you all right?" Aiden asked, staring out the window, watching as the town was being taken over by the army of the undead. Families died on their front lawns as they tried to escape, some desperately trying to defend themselves with any weapon they could find. Bats, axes and golf clubs swung, but the sheer numbers of the monsters was overwhelming, the sea of rotten bodies dragging them down in a heartbeat.

  Suddenly the van's engine stuttered, slowing for a moment, then once again picking up speed.

  "Shit. We gone have to make a run for it," Bo said, his eyes frantically scanning the buildings on either side of the street.

  "Oh, God..." Trish moaned from the backseat. "We can't go out there... we can't..."

  Conor put a hand on her shoulder.

  "Just stay close to us," he said. "We're gonna find a safe place."

  Aiden met his eyes, knowing his brother was as full of doubt as he was. The zombies were everywhere. They would be lucky to make it to any buildings, let alone a secure one.

  The van jolted once more, the engine running on fumes as Bo stomped on the gas pedal, trying in vain to keep it alive. The van struggled, gave a few hiccups, lurched forward, then died all the same.

  "Everybody out!" Aiden shouted, reaching for the side door. "We can't wait here! We're sitting ducks!"

  "Where to?" Klaus asked as he hesitantly stepped out.

  "Just take off down the sidewalk," said Conor as he stepped out. "Look for a fire escape or stairs, anything to get us on high ground. We gotta get off this street!"

  The brothers moved to either side of Trish, guarding her as they hurriedly left the van behind. She was so frightened she could hardly move, but Aiden grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, holding his rifle over the other shoulder.

  Bo led the way, rushing down the sidewalk as zombies began to quickly close in, their moans and growls growing ever louder all around them. Along the street there were many brick homes and the occasional small business. One such place, a mom-and-pop gas station was being swarmed by the monsters, the music that played from the outside speakers drawing them to it. Just behind the glass door of the place, an employee stood, face full of fear, hands against the glass as the creatures moved toward him.

  As Conor's group passed, a dozen or so zombies broke loose from the pack and shambled toward them.

  "What do you think?" Conor shouted up to Bo.

  "I don't know, brutha," Bo said, looking from one side of the street to the other. "I don't see - waitaminute! Right there!"

  Bo pointed ahead of them and across the street. A few hundred yards away stood an old liquor store - Tate's: keeps you in good spirits - read the sign.

  "Bars on the windows!" Bo said with excitement. "Let's go! If we can get in there, we'll be home free!"

  At the same time a group of monsters emerged from an alley just in front of them and upon noticing the group, rushed forward in a frenzy, arms outstretched and eyes wide.

  "Fuck!" Klaus screamed, running away into the street, almost colliding with a truck that roared by, zombies hanging from its tailgate. Bo grabbed him and pulled him to the opposite sidewalk, running at full speed toward the liquor store.

  Conor, Aiden and Trish were suddenly cut off from the others as the zombies bore down on them. They turned to run back the way they had come, but found more of the creatures moving in their direction.

  Aiden lowered the AR-15 and began shooting, taking careful aim and blowing the approaching zombies' heads apart. Conor fired with the Glock as well, but with little effect. Where the AR-15 would damage the creature's heads and faces enough to disable them, making them blind, the 9mm was only blowing holes in them and they just kept coming.

  "Pick a house, Conor! We gotta go!" Aiden shouted between rounds. "Trish, shut up!"

  She had been screaming in fright, hysterical, her voice louder than the gunfire.

  To their immediate left stood a brick two-story house with a large front window. They had no other option.

  "Come on!" Conor said, pulling Trish with him as he raced across the street. Aiden came up behind, spinning to blast a few more zombies, the rifle clicking as the magazine became empty. Quickly he dropped the spent one free, reached into his back pocket and replaced it with a full one. Up the concrete steps Conor went, throwing open the screen and trying the main door. No luck.

  Locked up tight.

  He threw his shoulder against it, but it held firm. There was a sudden rush of monsters and Aiden was nearly overrun, reanimated bodies all around him, arms and faces blocking his vision. Clawed hands tore at his clothing as he backed up the steps, kicking a zombie away as he shot another in the face, its skull splitting jaggedly down the middle.

  The steps were a welcome obstacle to the
zombies and slowed them at least momentarily as Conor searched the porch, eyes settling on a chipped and faded garden gnome. He snatched it up, nudged Trish to the side and hurled it at the front window with all his might. The glass shattered, large irregular shards dropping inside the house to break on the living room floor. Conor kicked at the jagged pieces that still remained in the frame, creating a safe passage.

  Then the zombies reached the top step, despite Aiden's gunfire.

  "Get in there! Run, goddammit!" he called out, motioning with his head as he came toward them at full speed. Conor shoved Trish through the window and leaped inside himself, turning to Aiden who still stood in the window's frame, firing rounds into the horde.

  "Come on, Aiden!"

  A female zombie worked her fingernails into Aiden's jacket and as he stepped backward into the window, he pulled her with him.

  "Shit!" he screamed as her face shot forward, teeth narrowly missing the end of his nose. He stumbled over the window opening as the other monsters gained the porch, groaning as they smelled the living flesh.

  Falling through the opening, Aiden wrapped his hands around the thing's nasty throat, landing hard on his back and instantly twisting himself onto one side. More zombies appeared at the window, sluggishly pulling themselves through, filling the room with their fetid stench.

  Conor grabbed Aiden's rifle, now lying on the floor and blew the dead woman's head into pieces, his brother throwing its still-thrashing body away and jumping to his feet. His face and chest were covered with thick blood and he kept his mouth tightly closed as he staggered toward Conor.

  "Upstairs, quickly!" Conor shouted as several more zombies stepped into the room, climbing over the nearly-headless body of the woman. He grabbed Aiden by the arm and pulled him toward the staircase, Trish already three steps ahead of them.

  "Hurry, guys! Hurry!" she called out, waving them on as she watched the zombies shamble closer. Conor and Aiden bounded up the steps side by side, the monsters just behind them. As they reached the second floor, Trish pulled open a door, searching for a safe place to hide.

  A sudden gunshot sounded and Trish spun, falling to the floor as the brothers reached her. In the now-open doorway, a dark-haired man stood with a smoking pistol in his hand. Conor rushed him with Aiden moving to help. Another shot rang out as Conor tackled the man, knocking him back into the bedroom and hammering his face with punches.

  Aiden turned to see a dozen zombies coming up the steps as Trish lay sprawled on the floor, blood seeping through her t-shirt along her right side. He grabbed one of her arms and pulled her inside the bedroom, slamming the door just as the creatures reached it. The entire wall shuddered as the zombies slammed against it, roaring in anger as they tried to break it down.

  "You let them in, you sons of bitches!" the man shouted as Conor jumped free, the man's pistol now in his possession. The man's sleeveless shirt was now spattered with the blood that dripped from both nostrils and a split lip. "You assholes couldn't find your own place to hide out? You had to take mine? Fuck you all. Fuck you!"

  Aiden knelt next to Trish, inspecting the wound in her side. The bullet had passed through, missing any vital organs, but the bleeding was excessive. Aiden pulled a pillow off of the bed and tore of its case, folding it and pressing it against Trish's side. She hissed in pain, gritting her teeth.

  "He shot me..." she mumbled. "Why did you shoot me? Aiden... am I going to die?"

  Aiden shook his head and managed a smile.

  "No," he said. "Not from this, you're not. It went right through. Just need to stop the bleeding, that's all."

  Behind him, the door rocked hard in its frame as the zombies attacked it with renewed force. Glancing up, Aiden noticed a rectangular frame set in the ceiling.

  "Attic," he said and stood up. "Conor, there's an attic. They won't be able to reach us up there."

  "No. Oh, fuck no," the man said. "That's mine, okay? This is my house. You can't just take it from me-"

  "Motherfucker, you just shot her-" Aiden began.

  "And me," Conor said, turning his arm, now bloody from the bicep down.

  "Shit," Aiden said. "You all right?"

  Conor nodded and kicked the man in his leg.

  "Grazed my arm," Conor said, jumping up to pull the attic stairs down from the ceiling. A piece of the doorframe flew across the room as the zombies weakened it, pounding against it incessantly.

  "Come on, Trish," Aiden said, throwing her arm over his shoulder and helping her up the unsteady stairs. "Up you go."

  Conor locked eyes with the homeowner, who glared in anger. He was a thin man, losing his blonde hair with a nose that turned down toward his lips.

  "You gonna be good?" Conor asked, tapping the Glock on the barrel. "I don't want to leave you down here to die - even though I probably should - but if you plan to pull anything, think again."

  "I'm not stayin' down here, man. There's no way."

  "My brother and I have already been through some serious shit, buddy," Conor said. "Neither of us will have a problem putting a bullet in your head."

  "All right. I got it," the man said, wiping the back of his forearm across his bloody mouth.

  "Let's go," Conor said and hurried up the wobbly steps with the man just behind him. Once they were both out of the way, the man grabbed a rope and yanked it, pulling the steps back up into the bedroom ceiling. They could hear the door explode below and the ravenous monsters charge in, searching for fresh meat.

  "Conor, check this shit out," Aiden said, pointing around the attic space. "He was prepared for this. You some sort of survivalist? Look at all of this!"

  Half of the attic had been turned into a supply room, the other side unfinished, the ceiling joists still exposed. There were stacked cases of supplies against the walls and weapon racks suspended from the rafters. There was a mini-refrigerator and gallons of drinking water on shelves near a small cot that Aiden carefully placed Trish upon.

  On a small table sat boxes of ammo, maps and a pair of binoculars that Conor moved to investigate.

  "Hey-" the man started, but looked away as Conor waved his gun toward him.

  "Just sit down somewhere," Conor said. "Away from the guns, if you don't mind. You got a first aid kit up here? You must have, you've got everything else."

  The man held his tongue for a moment, but relented as Conor aimed the gun at him.

  "Under the cot," the man said. "Everything you need; peroxide, alcohol, needle, thread, guaze, bandages... Apply direct pressure to both wounds, entry and exit. If it won't stop, I've got some Quickclot in there as well."

  Trish was now shaking uncontrollably and crying, reaching out to Aiden. When he pulled her shirt up, her skin felt very cold, but the bleeding had already begun to slow. Conor grabbed the first aid container, popped it open and handed several gauze pads to Aiden.

  "Better disinfect that first," the man said as he sat upon the plywood floor. "At least pour some peroxide on that. You guys don't look to clean to me. Probably all kinds of bacteria crawling all over you."

  Conor and Aiden set to work dressing the wound and comforting Trish who was obviously going into shock.

  "Don't take all my shit, guys, okay?" asked the homeowner. "Took me years to get this place just right."

  "You know what? I'm in no mood to be nice," said Aiden as he held his palms firmly against Trish's abdomen and lower back. "We came here looking for a place to hide from those things. Have you been out there among them? They've taken over the world, man. Instead of letting ourselves be eaten by fucking zombies, we broke into your house. We meant you no harm. We just needed help, shelter... and you fucking shot my brother and Trish. I'm kinda in the mood to kill you, actually, but my hands are full at the moment."

  "I didn't mean to shoot your girlfriend, dude. It was an accident. I thought she was one of those things. I mean, you guys are covered in blood-"

  "Sounds like a good excuse," Conor said, examining his tricep where the bullet had clipped him.
"But we were screaming down there. Zombies don't talk much, do they? I guarantee you heard us fighting them in your living room."

  "No, I-"

  "You're full of shit," said Conor. "And I'm having second thoughts about letting you up here. Now, shut the hell up."

  Conor turned to his brother, his Glock still trained on the man, who was growing more nervous.

  "How's it look?" Conor asked.

  "Bleeding's mostly stopped," Aiden said, extending his hand. "Give me some more gauze pads and some tape."

  Conor did so, assisting as they wrapped Trish's waist tightly. She was dazed and quiet, her eyes glassy as she stared at them.

  "I'm so tired," she said as Aiden covered her with a blanket.

  "It's okay. You can sleep now," Aiden said. "Just relax. We're not going anywhere."

  She nodded, her eyes fluttered a few times and then she closed them. Aiden dropped down to sit on the floor and placed his rifle across his lap with a long sigh.

  "So... what do we do with this guy?" he asked. "First chance he gets, he's gonna try to kill us."

  "No. No, I won't," said the man, holding his hands out defensively. The blood on his face had now dried, his stubbly beard now crusted with it. "Everything's cool."

  "You're telling me if I threw you this gun, you wouldn't shoot me with it?" Aiden asked.

  "Of course, not!" the man said, with an exaggerated shrug. "I know what you guys are about now. Like I said... it's cool."

  Aiden nodded.

  "Okay, then," he said with a smile. "Matt, isn't it?"

  The man looked surprised.

  "Yeah, how'd you know?"

  "Guns and Ammo magazine on the floor over here. Got your name on it. Matt Phillips Jr."

  "Oh, right. Yeah, Matt," the man said with a smile.

  Aiden stood up and walked over to where Matt was sitting. He handed him the rifle much to Conor's surprise. Conor began to protest, but Aiden interrupted him.

  "Matt, you got anything decent in that fridge?" Aiden asked, turning his back on the man as he crossed the attic.