by Russ Watts
Bishop waved his hand shutting Carlton up. “Later. Right now, we have to run. Everyone out.”
Bishop left the room, followed by Carlton.
“You’ve been here, with him, this whole time? Must’ve been fun,” said Jonas to Julie.
Julie shrugged. “We went into the other room occasionally, but we figured if we stayed out of there that they might go away eventually. They’ve been there for…for as long as I can remember. It’s just…” Her eyes filled with sadness, and she looked at Jonas. “Never mind. We should go.”
She followed Carlton out of the dank bedroom with a perplexed Jonas behind. He wasn’t prepared to trust a stranger as easily as Bishop, and couldn’t understand how Bishop could do so quite so easily. Jonas wanted to keep an eye on them both, but Carlton especially. Whatever was going on between Julie and Carlton, he wanted no part of it. Bishop could do his thing and get them on their way, wherever the hell that was. All Jonas wanted was to be back on the road to Thunder Bay with Dakota.
“So, what now?” asked Carlton.
They were all stood back on the balcony with the zombies still straining to escape the upstairs window next door.
“That way,” said Bishop, pointing down at the street. He straddled the railing. “Down.”
Jonas saw half a dozen zombies milling around on the street, but the others had all gone into the sandwich shop. It was crazy, but it was as good a way as anything he could think of. Jonas saw that Bishop had already grabbed a handful of the sheet that hung from the balcony, and was preparing to descend.
“Don’t leave me hanging,” said Bishop, and then he was gone, abseiling down the side of the building, half climbing and half falling.
“Doesn’t waste time does he, your friend?” asked Julie.
“You next,” said Jonas, helping her over the railing.
He watched the woman awkwardly clamber down, and then Carlton followed her, waiting until she was on the ground before he started climbing. The sheet wouldn’t be able to hold all of them, so they had to take it one by one. Jonas saw that the zombies on the street were already engaged in combat with Bishop, which they were losing. Bishop handled his sword like a pro, and Jonas had to wonder if he didn’t have some previous experience. Looking up and down the street, Jonas noticed the dead prisoner from before looking back at him. The zombie’s eyes were fixed solely on him. It felt like the dead man was waiting specifically for Jonas to get down to street level. It was like a personal battle of wills, and as Jonas got himself ready to make the descent, he glanced back. The prisoner was still looking back at him, still standing there, staring back, waiting; Jonas knew he was going to have to make his bullets count when he got down there. Jonas said a silent prayer, and then followed them down, eager to get out of town. The sheet was cold to the touch, slippery, and it took barely three seconds to reach the street. As Jonas reached the ground, the knots in the sheet finally perished, and it softly fell at Jonas’s feet, exposing the optometrists beneath which Julie and Carlton had been hiding. The moment Jonas’s feet touched the ground, he felt someone grab his shoulder, and he whirled around, ready to blow their head off.
“We’re fucking surrounded! Where do we go?” shouted Carlton. The man’s spit flecked Jonas’s face, and he pushed him away.
“Keep it together. There, through the coffee shop.” Jonas wiped his face and watched as Carlton grabbed Julie and ran for the other side of the road. Bishop was slicing his way through the zombies, and then Jonas saw what Carlton was talking about. From the very far end of the street more were coming, and the zombies in the sandwich shop were starting to come out too, aware that their prey had circumnavigated a way around them. The crowd down the street disturbed Jonas. Where had they come from? Perhaps they had been drawn by the shooting; perhaps they just knew something was going down: either way, it was time to get out of town.
“Bishop, let’s go,” shouted Jonas. “We’ve got to…”
Jonas heard the crashing sound of glass behind him, and then felt huge arms wrap around him like thick tentacles. He elbowed whoever had grabbed him, and tried to get away, but the person behind him had a strong grip. Jonas flung his head back, and his bruised skull connected with soft tissue. He felt something break, and warm blood splattered the back of his neck. The arms around his torso weakened, and Jonas quickly rushed forward, escaping the clutches of whoever was behind him.
In the optometrists, below the room where Julie and Carlton had been holed up, an obese man had been trapped. With the sheet covering the window the man had no reason to go anywhere, with nothing to draw him out. Now, with the street in full view and all the action taking place outside, he had quickly spotted Jonas. The large front window had been no barrier to the man who was easily over two hundred pounds, and he charged through it, running toward Jonas, faster than he had ever run in life.
Staring at the disfigured man, Jonas was sickened. He had broken the man’s nose with his head butt, and yet the blood on the zombie’s face was not the worst part about him. The fat around the man’s gut swung loosely around his body, almost down to his swollen knees, and festering sores covered the man’s skin. One side of the man’s face had been bitten numerous times, and Jonas could see yellowing teeth through the man’s exposed jaw. Shards of glass protruded from the man’s face, and one eye had been sliced in half. The creamy, jelly-like eyeball was oozing out, dribbling down the man’s jowls. In the zombie’s gut, which was so large it could’ve housed a small family, Jonas saw movement. The intestines moved, and Jonas thought he saw something blink at him, almost like an eye. Confused, Jonas raised his gun to shoot. He swallowed down the bile erupting in his stomach as he watched a rat crawl from the man’s gut. Its matted black fur was wet, slimy, and covered in blood and feces. The rat darted down the man’s tree-trunk legs to the ground before scampering away back into the shop.
“Runner!” shouted Jonas, thinking that the obese zombie was going to charge after Bishop, but the man was on him in seconds.
“Bishop, I…” uttered Jonas, but he was unable to finish as the huge zombie took him down.
It felt like a bull had charged into him, and Jonas was taken aback by how quickly the man was able to move. They both fell backward, and Jonas slammed into the hard ground, the back of his head smacking into the concrete. All Jonas could see was a shiny blackness, as if he was staring into a vortex. Distant echoes thudded around his head, and bright flashing stars began to jump in front of his eyes.
His assailant had knocked the wind out of him, and Jonas tried calling for help, but was unable to suck in enough air to make any noise except a pathetic wheeze. The obese man was on top of him, and it took all of Jonas’s energy to keep his snapping jaws at bay. Black blood spilled from the zombie’s throat, dripping over Jonas, smelling of death. The blackness in his head began to clear, and Jonas realized the man was right on top of him, mere inches away, and not going anywhere.
In his peripheral vision, Jonas saw Bishop coming with his sword raised, and knew things were about to get messy. Bishop’s sword sliced through the obese man’s head, scalping him, and causing the man’s body to jerk back. The zombie was so close to Jonas, though, that it was difficult to get a clean strike, and Bishop succeeded in only severing the top half of the zombie’s head. Tiny clumps of bloody brain plopped onto Jonas’s face from the obese man, and Jonas kept his eyes and mouth shut, avoiding getting any of the man’s diseased blood inside him. It was too hard holding the man off, and Jonas could feel his arms trembling as he struggled to fight. The groaning sound of the obese man grew louder, and Jonas knew he was only seconds away from having the man take a chunk out of his neck.
Bishop began to kick at the man, and shoved the hilt of his sword into the dead man’s exposed brain. He ground the brain around and around, as if making guacamole in a mortar, turning the lumpy brain tissue into a creamy mush that slopped over the side of the dying zombie’s half skull.
The zombie stopped moving, and Jonas finally fe
lt the unbearable weight of the obese zombie slide off him. Bishop’s hands grabbed him, helping him up to his feet.
“Move it,” said Bishop, thrusting Jonas forward. Broken glass crunched underfoot, and he wiped his face as he blindly followed Bishop.
“You okay?” he heard Bishop ask, and before he could respond, he felt the ground under his feet change. He wiped his eyes, and finally got them open, wiping the blood and gunk from them. He looked around and realized they were back in the coffee shop.
“Is he bit?” asked Carlton.
“No. Now keep your wits about you, this isn’t over yet,” said Bishop striding to the door on the other side of the shop.
“Look, if he’s been bitten, then he’s as good as dead. We may as well do him a favor and drop him right here, right now,” said Carlton, pointing the gun at Jonas. “I’ve seen too many of my men go through this. A bite is a death sentence.”
“Christ, didn’t you hear him, he said he’s not bitten,” said Julie. “I’m going with Bishop. I can’t believe you, Carlton. These guys rescued us, can’t you understand that? Get over yourself. Let’s just get the fuck out of here while we still can.”
The coffee shop door rattled behind Jonas, and he turned to see the dead prisoner forcing his way in. Just as soon as Jonas saw the eyes of the prisoner locked on his, all thoughts he had about Carlton being an asshole were gone. The zombie raised a bloody stump where his hand once was and charged through the door. Still reeling from the obese zombie’s attack, Jonas felt for his gun and managed to get it up just in time. He fired, ripping open a hole in the prisoner’s shoulder.
I always was better with an axe, he thought as the prisoner barreled into him. Jonas tried to side step out of the way, but his feet became tangled with a chair, and he tripped over, knocking the wind out of himself once more as his stomach rammed into a table. There were more shots as another zombie followed the dead prisoner into the coffee shop, and Jonas knew he didn’t have time to get caught up in another fight. Dakota was waiting, and if they stayed any longer in the coffee shop, they were liable to draw a whole army with them. That would make getting out of Janesville very difficult. Now was not the time to become embroiled in another fight. Now was the time to hurry the hell out of there.
“Hamsikker, come on.” Jonas felt arms pulling him up, and he found Julie dragging him to his feet.
The gunfire stopped, and Jonas saw Bishop holding the exit open. Through the open doorway he could see the street filling with angry zombies; a veritable army of evil all heading in the same direction.
“Thanks. Let’s roll.” Jonas ran with Julie to the exit, and they turned back to see Carlton stood stock still in the middle of the café. The dead prisoner was at his feet, his head blown apart, and the empty gun hanging limply in Carlton’s hands.
“Sergeant, get your ass over here, now,” said Bishop. “Can’t you see when it’s time to leave? Read the room.”
“I need to know where we’re headed, Bishop.” Carlton turned to face the others, his square jaw covered in a slight beard, his eyes fiery and wild. His tone was menacing, and his intentions clear. “Private Buri is under my supervision, and I can’t let her just go off with anyone. There is a strict chain of command that needs to be followed, procedures for dealing with the death of any civilian following the discharge of a weapon, protocols that I need to…”
A runner charged into the coffee shop, sprinting unchallenged straight at Carlton so fast he was almost a blur.
“Watch your…” Jonas called, but he was too late. It was impossible to warn the man in time to do anything, and Jonas watched as the zombie suddenly attacked. It sprang toward Carlton fast, and sank its teeth into his neck before anyone could react.
Julie screamed. “Carlton!”
Jonas and Bishop raced to help, dragging the zombie off Carlton who was staggering backwards, his hands feebly trying to stop the blood pouring from his neck. Bishop ran the zombie through with his sword, killing it quickly.
“Carlton?”
As the sergeant collapsed, Jonas put his arm under the man, gently lowering him to the floor. Carlton’s eyes were already rolling into the back of his head, and small red bubbles of blood formed between his lips. Jonas put his hands over Carlton’s neck, trying to stem the flow of blood that was rapidly leaving the man’s body.
“Hamsikker,” said Bishop calmly.
“I know. We just need to stop the bleeding. If we can…”
“Hamsikker.” Bishop put his hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “Stop.”
Carlton’s eyes were closed now, and despite Jonas pushing on his neck, he was slipping away. Jonas knew it, and he hated it. It didn’t matter the man was ready to kill him literally minutes ago, he hated seeing someone go like that. They had tried to help, and now Sergeant Carlton was dead. Jonas let him go and stood up. He wiped the warm blood on his pants and looked at Bishop. The zombies were crowding around the café, and there was going to be no time for a dignified burial. They were going to have to skip the pleasantries, too, and move.
“Oh Jesus, this isn’t happening,” said Julie. “Tell me he’s not…he’s not going to…”
Bishop put his sharp sword through Carlton’s temple, ensuring the man would not get back up again.
“No, he’s not.” Bishop went to her. “Julie, we have to go.”
Julie nodded. “So I’m the last. My division is out there in Janesville somewhere. We were attacked. I thought maybe some of the others had made it out, were still out there coming to rescue us. You don’t think we could look, do you? Perhaps…”
“Oh no. Sorry Julie, but I’ve seen this film,” said Jonas. “We get sucked into another rescue mission, only this time we get trapped, and slowly picked off one by one. Well, not this time.” Jonas shook his head and opened the exit door. He could see Julie was about to break down. He couldn’t afford any more slip ups. They had saved one life, but there was more on the line than the three of them. Janey was at the forefront of his thoughts, and getting to his nephews had never seemed more important. Carlton’s death had reminded him how quickly things could turn against you, how events could spiral out of control. What hope did Janey have on her own? Jonas checked the street, noticing the other prisoners were still trapped on the bus. In a few minutes he would be back at the rendezvous, and they could finally get going to Canada.
“Get your shit together. We’re outta here.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bishop found a deserted house for them to sleep in overnight on the edge of Duluth. He seemed to have a good eye for it, picking out somewhere that was untouched by the dead, and clear of zombies. He was always alert. Jonas noticed that little got past him.
They scoured the house from top to bottom, making sure to check every last corner, every pantry, even the outside shed. There was nothing. Three bedrooms upstairs, and a comfortable sofa downstairs for whoever drew the short straw. They all knew it would be Bishop, yet they went through the pretense of talking it out, finally deciding what they already knew: Hamsikker and Dakota would take the master bedroom, Julie and Lukas the other rooms, and Bishop would stay downstairs in the living room on the sofa. He said he would feel better knowing he was able to keep a look out, and Hamsikker was privately relieved. Though he was on the mend, he still felt drained. A night’s sleep in a firm bed with Dakota tucked in next to him was just what he needed. The swelling on his head was painful to touch, and every time a barb of pain shot through him he thought of Carlton. Jonas tried to remember that he had been a decent man once and tried to forget the unhinged look in Carlton’s eyes when he spoke. Being cooped up inside for weeks or months on end could do that to a man. Jonas chose to remember that the man hadn’t deserved to die like that, and that at one point he had been a good man, fighting for his country.
Getting out of Janesville had been a breeze after leaving the coffee shop. They hadn’t encountered any other zombies on the way back to the church, and Lukas and Dakota were waiting exactly where they w
ere supposed to be. Bishop had taken Black Jack and disappeared quickly, promising to stop only if he had to. The plan was to meet up again outside of Duluth, the gateway to the north. The truck had been awfully tight with Julie up front, too, but there was no way Jonas was sending anyone to roll around in the back of an armored truck on their own. He tried talking to Julie, but she answered very few questions. Over the next few hours all he managed to get out of her was that she had no family and had joined up after leaving school. She seemed happier talking about Carlton. He was a family man. Born and raised on a small farm in Iowa, Julie told them; he was proud of his two sons, who were on the verge of graduating before the dead appeared. Julie told them how Carlton was adamant the rest of the unit would come back for them, and for a while she harbored the same hopes. After a few weeks trapped above the optometrists, though, it became clear they were on their own, and that’s when things got tough. Julie refused to elaborate and asked to be left alone to grieve. Jonas could see she was genuinely upset about Carlton’s death and let her be.
Lukas kept them heading north, occasionally asking for directions or checking they were heading the right way. After leaving Janesville, the roads began to clear, and they saw precious little sign of the dead. Occasionally they would come across a crash or a burnt out car, but the zombies were few and far between. It was only as they neared Eau Claire, getting closer to Minneapolis, that the numbers of dead began to rise again. At first they would appear on the roadside or in the fields, and then they began to appear on the road. Lukas hit a couple, but the truck made mincemeat of them, literally, and they kept going with barely a pause. The armored truck had been a wise choice, proving to be an effective battering ram when the dead spilled onto the roads. By the time they stopped for the night, the front grill was full of grisly body parts and splattered with blood.
“Why so many?” asked Dakota as they tried to find a road that avoided any built up areas. “Why here?”