by Joe Augustyn
Ryan sat for a moment, collecting his nerves as he studied the writhing pile of fallen bodies clogging the road ahead. Behind and on either side of them, a phalanx of cadavers shuffled forward, drawn to the glare of his headlights.
Shifting into low he turned the wheel sharply and drove up onto the sidewalk, choosing the path of least reanimated corpses. His palpitating pulse calmed a bit after he passed through the crowded intersection, leaving the unholy congregation behind. By the time they could turn their stiff limbs to follow, he was half a block away.
The shadowy walkers grew thinner in number as he drove towards the outskirts of town. The few he passed lurched toward his approaching lights and the sound of his engine, then turned to give hopeless chase as he sped away.
Some kind of memory or instinct survives, Ryan thought, his naturally curious mind at work, sorting and analyzing the things he’d observed that night. They seem to be drawn to sound and light and movement. One gets drawn to a sensory stimulus and the rest see it moving and they follow. There’s definitely a herd mentality at work.
He passed through his neighborhood, deliberately keeping his eyes off the wraithlike shadows on the street. His mother and brother were probably long gone by now, but he didn’t want to risk seeing them again. Not the way they were now. He didn’t even want to think about them, knowing he might collapse if he opened the floodgates of his emotions. He would sort out his memories later, when he was safe.
The houses grew farther apart as he drove and the patches of woods between them grew denser. Through the teeming rain he spotted a grotesque figure trudging along the side of the road, hunched against the rain. He was tempted to run it down—but was surprised when it suddenly turned and dashed into the glare of his headlights, trying to flag him down. He hit the brakes and swerved to stop, elated when he saw it was a woman with a backpack. A live one.
Kerri ran to the passenger side and hastily climbed in, throwing her gear in the back. Drenched with cold water she was shivering and pale and her lips were swollen and blue. She seemed more alive than dead—moving faster than the plodding reanimated corpses—but Ryan had sudden doubts. He pointed the dead policeman’s Glock at her. “You’re not one of them, are you?”
“Do I look like one of them?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Would you mind pointing that thing somewhere else?”
“Well…” He hesitated, studying her carefully, then he lowered the gun. “I guess not. You haven’t been bitten, have you?”
“No, I haven’t been bitten. Have you?”
“Of course not,” Ryan shrugged. “Would I be driving this car if I were?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
Ryan was somewhat stumped by the question. “I guess not. And thank God for that. Could you imagine if those things could drive?”
“Are we going to sit here all night yakking?” Kerri asked. “Or are you getting us out of here, someplace safe?”
Ryan started driving. “I just want to warn you. We’re almost out of gas.”
“Great. Well just keep going until we run out. The further we go, the safer we’ll be.”
“You think so?”
“I hope so. Unless you have a better idea?”
“No.” He drove slowly. The storm had picked up and the rain was hammering down. The wipers sloshed dutifully over the windshield, but it remained a blur of dancing water. “What the hell is going on back there anyway?”
“You know as much as I do, Sherlock. My partner and I were responding to an emergency call. We found one of those… things…” Kerri paused, not sure she needed to complete the picture. “… feeding. Then on the way back someone crashed into our ambulance.”
“Ambulance?”
Kerri tugged at her uniform. “I’m an EMT. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Oh. Yeah. When you said your partner… I thought you were a… you know.”
“Jesus, kid. You obviously spend too much time on the internet. Well, you can stop your fantasizing. My partner—Hector—was pinned behind the steering wheel. It broke my heart to leave him like that but I still had hope I might get him some help. I tried walking to the hospital… but…”
“I know. That’s where I went. After those things got my mom.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” A knot rolled up in his throat but he forced himself to hold it together.
There was a long solemn silence as he drove. But it was comforting for them both to have company. To know they weren’t alone. Kerri was grateful that her parents lived far away, across the Delaware River in Allentown, Pennsylvania. She kept telling herself it was safe there.
“Do you think this is happening everywhere?” Ryan finally asked.
“No. Let’s hope not. ‘cause if it is…”
Ryan felt a lump in his throat. Cause if it is, we’re fucked.
Kerri saw the look in his eyes. “There’s no sense worrying about what we don’t know. We have enough to deal with at the moment.”
Suddenly the car stuttered, lurching forward in short jerky motions. “Shit.”
“Just keep going,” Kerri urged. “Let’s get as far as we—”
The engine died and the car crawled to a stop. Ryan tried to start it again. It was no use. The starter whirred hopelessly. The engine coughed weakly but didn’t ignite.
“Forget it.” Kerri said. “You’re only making noise. Noise seems to attract those things. Noise and lights. Kill the headlights.”
Ryan reluctantly complied. He knew she was right, but dreaded what the darkness would bring. They sat in silence, listening to the drumming of the rain on the roof. The darkness was all-encompassing. They might as well have been blind.
“What now?” Ryan finally asked, afraid of what Kerri would suggest, but knowing the answer already. The sound of the rain was soothing, but he wasn’t looking forward to stepping out into the downpour.
“Now we walk. Unless you want to sit here and wait to see who shows up.”
“It might be another car,” he replied hopefully.
“Yeah. It might be,” she said, her words soaked in doubt.
Ryan sighed. As lightning flashed he took one last look around the little car that had saved his life, smiling at the statuette on the dashboard. “Thanks, Chris,” he whispered. Then he quietly opened his door.
26
The troopers’ SUV sped through the woods, halfway to their destination. The road curved and dipped like a thrill ride. Occasional flashes of lightning lit up the sky, framed by tall black trees on either side. The fog was still thick, but the slow-moving storm was not far away.
Cat checked their assignment sheet by flashlight as Bronski drove. “We’re supposed to touch base with the Lenape Creek Sheriff.”
“Where the hell is Lenape Creek?” asked Bronski.
“I’m sure you’ve driven through it. Cute little town. Looks like a picture postcard. Neat old Colonial homes, painted like gingerbread houses. It’s just a speck on the map. Out in the boonies, not far from Dennisville.”
“Oh yeah…” Bronski nodded. “There’s a station there?”
“That’s what it says. ‘Make contact with Sheriff Leeds’.”
“Great. We’re checking in with Andy of Mayberry. And his deputies Goober and Gomer.”
“You mean Barney,” Cat replied.
“Whatever. He’s probably not there anyway, at this time of night.”
“Somebody will be.”
“Barney Goober.”
Cat laughed. Lightning flashed again, closer, illuminating the tops of the trees around them. Thunder boomed two seconds later.
“Wow. That was close.”
“Just what we need,” said Cat. “I thought the storm wasn’t due for a few more hours.”
“Accu-weather. Look on the bright side. Maybe it’ll cool things down. I mean, whatever is happening on the roads down here.”
“And maybe baby blue monkeys will fly out of my butt.”
Bronski laugh
ed. “Cat, please, I asked you not to talk about your butt. I have enough on my mind as it is.” Despite his lighthearted tone his request was half-serious. The ink on his divorce decree was barely dry, but his marriage had ended years ago. His wife hadn’t been interested in fulfilling her wifely duties as much as she was in spending his money on clothes and expensive make-up. If she’d held a job it might have been a bearable situation. But that would have cut into her shopping time. Nick was either very patient or very slow to catch on, but eventually he realized he was merely a financial convenience for the little lady.
The first raindrops splattered on the windshield. Quarter-sized droplets. Just a few at first, then dozens, hundreds, faster and harder. In seconds they were flooding the windshield and hammering the roof of the vehicle.
Cat sighed, shivering as the temperature dropped in the vehicle. She turned up the heater. “Otis might have the last laugh after all back at the prison farm. We could be driving into a monster storm.”
“Relax, it’s just a big ole nor’easter. We’ll touch base with the yokels, find out that there’s no big catastrophe going on and be back at headquarters in time for a nice hot lunch.”
“Please don’t talk about food. All I had for breakfast was a half-stale pretzel and a—Nick, look out!”
Bronski hit the brakes just in time. The SUV swerved and slid to a stop next to a dead sapling blocking the road. “Whew,” Bronski sighed. “Thanks. That would not have been pretty.”
“What the hell were you looking at?”
“I thought I saw something on the road.”
“Yeah, there was,” Cat said. “Right in front of us. Jesus.”
“No harm, no foul.” He switched on the vehicle’s flashers, then popped the rear hatch. “Wait here ‘til I set out the flares.”
Cat joined him a minute later by the fallen tree and they dragged it off the roadway. Their lightweight plastic ponchos whipped madly in the wind, exposing their legs to the icy rain. Dropping the tree by the side of the road, they hurried back to the SUV. But as Cat reached the middle of the road, a shape leaped at her, nearly bowling her over.
She shrieked in surprise and spun off-balance, but Bronski caught her and steadied her. They turned and saw a deer, silhouetted in the red glow of the road flares, bounding away down the road, in the opposite direction they were headed.
“Jesus Christ!” Cat cried. “Frigging deer almost nailed me!” Before she could gather herself, another deer came charging down the road. Bronski pulled her back into his arms as it bounded past.
A third deer followed on its heels, just missing the huddled troopers.
“What the fuck?” Cat yelled, as the panicked animals disappeared into the darkness beyond the flares.
“Get in the car,” Bronski urged her.
They climbed in and slammed the doors.
“That was pretty trippy,” Bronski said.
“That’s one word for it,” Cat retorted. “Christ, I’m soaked to the bone.”
Nick turned the heat up full blast. Hot air blew from the vents. “Better?”
“That must be one hell of a storm we’re driving into,” said Cat. “Those deer were running for their lives.”
“Yeah,” said Nick quietly as he shifted into gear, suddenly feeling that their mission might not be as routine as he’d believed. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
27
“Sheriff! Sheriff Leeds!” Deputy Hayes pounded on the front door of the Leeds house. The power was out in the neighborhood and the house was dark. The gingerbread trim of the porch roof served as a fountain, funneling rain in steady ropes. Hayes cursed the frigid drops of water that somehow splashed past the plastic train of his rain cap to plunk down on his neck.
Leeds finally opened the door. He was dressed in pajamas and robe, holding a bourbon in one hand and an electric lantern in the other. And he wasn’t happy. He eyed the deputy angrily. The man was soaking wet and shivering uncontrollably. “Hayes, what the hell is the ruckus? Why are you bothering me at home at this hour? You woke my whole damned family.”
“I’m sorry, Sheriff. I tried to call but the phones are out. We have a problem, Sheriff. A really big problem.”
Leeds could tell by his deputy’s demeanor that whatever the problem was, it was very real. His quaking wasn’t just from the rain. “What kind of problem?”
“They’re out.”
“What do you mean they’re out?” But even as he asked the question, he suspected the answer. “Talk!”
“I went by the cemetery. The main gate’s busted open. They’re out. And it’s not just them anymore. It’s spreading. They’re all over the roads and they’ve bitten a lot of people. It’s spreading fast.”
“Are you sure about this?”
Hayes nodded. “Route 47’s a disaster zone. So is Route 9. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. That’s why I went to the cemetery, to check. The girl wasn’t there. No one was, dead or alive. And the old Ford was gone. The main gate was open. Looked like she crashed through it.”
“That’s impossible. She was a goner.”
“Well if she was, she got up and drove away after she was dead. Can they do that?”
Leeds was silent. For the first time in his reign as head of the small town police force he felt powerless. As the news sank in he felt sick. Monumentally sick.
“On top of that,” Hayes continued, “I can’t find Jonesy or the new guy Jurgensen. They didn’t respond to my radio calls and now I can’t even get a signal. I swung by the station and it was deserted. I think Holly stepped out for lunch and never came back.”
The news hit Leeds hard. It was one thing to lose a deputy like Jonesy or Jurgensen, but Holly was his favorite niece. He’d set her up with the job working the cushy graveyard shift switchboard and now he was afraid he’d soon regret it.
“Sheriff, we need to get out there and stop them. I tried to reach the state police but—”
“You what?! Are you a goddamned idiot?”
“Sheriff, we need help. You haven’t seen what’s happening out there.”
“You listen to me, Hayes. What we need to do is find that stupid girl. I don’t know how she managed to get out of there, but we need to find her and shut her up. Damn it, we should have stuck around to make sure. We’ve gotten too lax.”
“Forget the girl, Sheriff. It’s beyond that now. I’m telling you—”
“No, I’m telling you, you pinhead! If what you say is true, we don’t know how bad it is or how it will end. But if that girl starts talking to the wrong people, we’re both dead, regardless. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen, under any circumstances. You got that?”
Hayes reluctantly nodded.
“She must be a local,” the Sheriff continued. “Otherwise she wouldn’t be down here in this storm.”
Hayes was silent. He didn’t like where this was going.
“Since she didn’t evacuate, she probably lives in one of the storm safe areas. Cruise the east end of town first… then the county roads west of nine.”
“County? But—”
“But nothing. Do as I say. Nobody’s going to question your jurisdiction in this storm. Just find that ’58 Ford.”
“Yes, sir. And then?”
Leeds restrained his response. He despised the deputy’s weakness, but didn’t want to provoke him. Better to handle this myself. I can’t depend on this idiot.
“Just bring her in for questioning,” he said calmly. “I’ll figure it out from there.” Unless we get lucky and those things get to her first—and save me the trouble. “I’ll be at the station. At least until Holly turns up.”
Suddenly the Sheriff’s wife Hedda appeared behind him, yanking the door open wide, holding her housecoat bunched at the neck. “What’s going on out here?” She eyed the deputy suspiciously. “Is something going on?”
“Get back to bed,” replied her husband sharply. “It’s just routine business. I’m handling it.”
“Well, ke
ep it down,” she snapped, and went inside. “People are trying to sleep.”
Hayes waited until he was sure she was gone. “Sheriff. About those things…”
“Listen, son. You have to stop questioning me on this. It’s God’s will. Just as it’s always been. This might be the big day. Resurrection Day. The Second Coming. We may all be called to glory very shortly. You should be proud to be a part of it. But we can’t let outsiders interfere. So man up. Submit to God’s authority. Go out and find that girl before she screws it all up and brings the wrath of Babylon down on our heads.”
Hayes felt his stomach turn. All his suppressed guilt came gushing up inside him, hotter than molten lava. He choked back a mouthful of bile as he hurried to his car.
One thing he knew in his heart… Whatever is happening out there has nothing to do with God.
28
Ryan and Kerri hiked nearly a mile after they ran out of gas. They knocked on three doors with no luck before they finally found refuge from the storm. Those three homes appeared to be well kept and well secured. Their owners were probably either seasonal residents or had evacuated due to the storm.
They struck gold on their fourth attempt, a ramshackle bungalow set back from the road in an overgrown clearing. As they trudged wearily across the weedy lawn they could see the house was clearly abandoned. Half the paint on the clapboard walls had flaked off, revealing weathered gray wood underneath. Most of the windows were broken, with gaping holes in the glass.
Ryan was thankful that tick season was over, or the place would have probably been infested with the blood-sucking crawlers. He cursed as he reached the front door and found it padlocked. “Shit, it’s got a padlock on th—”
Kerri kicked the flimsy door open with one forceful kick. “After you,” she said with a cheeky smile, and aimed her flashlight through the doorway.