by Joe Augustyn
“Old?” Kerri asked, sounding a bit skeptical.
“Not just old,” Emma huffed impatiently. “Old! Antique old. In long dresses and old-fashioned clothes. And the Sheriff knew they were in there. He was trying to feed me to them.” Her voice grew more tremulous as she spoke. “On purpose.”
“That’s insane,” said Kerri.
“This whole situation is insane,” Ryan observed.
“He said, ‘granny has to eat too,’” continued Emma, her nerves unraveling as she recalled the incident. “And his deputy was in on it with him.”
“Granny has to eat too?” Kerri asked skeptically. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”
“Yes! Granny has to eat too. He zapped me with a stun gun. He wanted to make sure she got me while I was down and couldn’t fight back. He left me there, paralyzed. If it hadn’t been for Russell…” she choked up again, recalling Russell’s heroics. Then she was sobbing outright. Sad sloppy hysterical sobs.
“This is all too weird,” said Kerri, rubbing Emma’s back to soothe her.
“It’s the zombie apocalypse,” said Ryan. He didn’t mean to sound glib, but his mind had shifted into a strange automatic mode, distancing him from the tragedies he’d endured.
Kerri sighed and shot him a frustrated look. “Knock it off. All we know for sure is those things are contagious. And the contagion spreads quickly. My partner and I rescued a deputy who was bitten on the leg. And minutes later he was one of them. That doesn’t mean they’re zombies. It just means there’s a fast-acting pathogen in their saliva.”
“If it quacks like a duck…” shrugged Ryan. “It finally happened. We willed it on ourselves.”
“Don’t be fooled by appearances,” countered Kerri, determined to end his morbid speculation. “They might appear to be dead, but they’re not. Dead people don’t walk around. It’s just a disease. Some form of rabies or mad cow disease or something else that affects the brain. Something that stimulates certain drives while inhibiting other functions. Don’t make it worse than it is. A plague is bad enough.”
“The ones I saw in the cemetery were dead,” Emma insisted, her voice quivering but determined to make her point. “They were corpses. Long dead corpses. Stinking rotten filthy dead corpses.”
“Okay,” snapped Kerri, wishing she’d run across adults instead of teenagers. “Calm down.”
But Emma was slipping down a rabbit-hole of terror, unable to stop her descent. “Their skin… their faces… the old lady didn’t have any hands. No hands. Just rotted stumps!”
“Okay, honey, calm down,” Kerri said soothingly. “Whatever they are, they’re clearly messed up. And dangerous. So right now we need to get to safety. If it did start in the cemetery like you say it did, then it couldn’t have spread very far. We just need to get up to Millville or Vineland and report it to the authorities. And we need to do it fast. Before it gets out of hand.”
“We should drive through to Philly,” said Ryan. “We need to contact the Feds. Or Homeland Security. Shit, we probably should call in the army.”
Kerri looked at Emma, who was rocking mindlessly back and forth, obviously losing it. If they delayed any longer, the girl might be too far gone to lead them back to her house.
“Let’s just get to a car—now,” she suggested firmly. “We can decide where to go once we’re safely on the road.”
32
Deputy Hayes nearly jumped out of his skin when Russell grabbed him from behind. Losing his balance he stumbled forward into the door just as his hand turned the doorknob. The door swung open, pulling him off-balance. He fell to his knees and his jaw hit the busted window frame. A two-inch sliver of glass drove up through the tender flesh beneath his chin, impaling him through his tongue, and the opening door dragged him forward, skittering in an awkward crouch.
Adrenaline shot through his system. He grabbed onto the window frame and hoisted himself to his feet, crying in pain as shards of broken glass sliced into the palm of one hand. Bubbles of bloody saliva dribbled from his mouth and blood rushed from his hand, inflaming Russell’s hunger with its coppery aroma.
Hayes twisted his torso, fighting to free himself as the zombie lunged into him, grappling him in a ham-handed hug. The deputy pressed the muzzle of his handgun into Russell’s stomach and fired several shots. The impact drove him backwards—just a few inches, but enough to give Hayes some leverage. He whipped his arms up and shoved Russell hard. Russell tottered uncertainly and slipped on the rain-soaked doorstep.
As he went down the deputy backed away—and was grabbed by Emma’s mother.
Pivoting on his heels he found himself face-to-face with her mutilated countenance. The flesh was stripped from her face from her eyeballs down. A hot wave of fear coursed through him as he imagined himself trapped in the midst of a zombie horde. He jammed his Glock under her chin and blasted her brains through the top of her head.
She flopped to the ground, finished—but Russell was back on his feet, tottering toward him. The deputy turned just in time and fired two quick rounds into Russell’s head, putting him down for good.
Hayes stood trembling and hyperventilating, scanning the darkness around him, fully expecting to find a legion of walking corpses surrounding him. A flash of lightning revealed that he was alone, except for the two dead bodies lying at his feet. The freezing rain poured over him like a blasphemous baptism. Finally he gathered his senses and picked up his hat from the ground. An arrhythmic chain of lightning flickered across the sky. His gaze wandered past the autumnal trees lining the property to the empty road beyond, which seemed to beckon him to a new world—a bleak, apocalyptic domain.
“Dear God…” he gasped. “Forgive me. Please forgive me for all that I’ve done.”
33
The troopers perked up as they saw a set of red and blue flashers and headlights racing through the darkness toward their SUV.
“Must be one of the deputies,” said Cat. “And he’s in an awful hurry.”
“Let’s see what he has to say.” Bronski stopped their vehicle on the road and turned on his beacons. As the cruiser drew near he rolled his window down—and got slapped in the mouth by a cold splash of rain blown in by the heavy wind.
The cruiser shot past without even slowing down, heading towards Lenape Creek.
“What the hell?” Bronski scowled. Wiping his face he hastily rolled up his window.
“I knew it,” said Cat. “That was a Lenape Creek cruiser. Something hinky is going on down here. And that Sheriff was well aware of it. He was just a little too anxious to get rid of us. Why? We should go back right now and grill his ass.”
“What for? If he was lying we’ll only get more lies. We’re here to gather intelligence, not bullshit.” He shifted into gear and continued down the road. “Let’s hit our next contact point and find out what’s going on. Then we can get the hell out of Dodge, and let headquarters deal with it.”
Cat checked their orders. “County hospital on Route 9. If something is going on, we should be able to find out there. Unless they’re in cahoots with the Sheriff of Nottingham.”
“Take a breath, Cat. I know you’re dying for some action, but let’s not have our imaginations run away with us,” said Bronski. “Maybe that deputy just had the shits and was racing back to the station to take a dump. Let’s just hit the hospital. One look at the emergency room should tell us all we need to know. Either something is happening, or it’s not.”
“I’d still like another word with that Sheriff.”
“A word? Or an excuse to kick his ass?”
“Both.”
Bronski grinned but a minute later he slowed the vehicle as he spotted something ahead. “Jesus.” He switched on the brights, revealing a massive puddle spread across the road. “Well, the old man wasn’t lying about the roads flooding out down here.”
“It should be better once we reach Route Nine. They have better sewage systems in town.”
“I hope you’re right,” Bronski
replied. “But we’re getting close to the ocean. A lot of the storm drains fill with backwater from the flooded inlets.”
“We should have brought our rubber waders.”
“Kinky, Cat. I didn’t know you were into latex.”
“Only on rainy nights,” she replied coolly. “Whoa. Stop!”
Bronski stopped the vehicle and they sat gazing through the windshield.
“What the hell is that on the road?” Cat asked.
“You tell me,” he shrugged, and switched on the spotlight.
“Oh Jesus,” Cat said softly. “That can’t be what it looks like.”
Pulling up the hoods of their ponchos they got out to investigate.
“Jesus Mary and Joseph,” exclaimed Bronski.
The corpse run over by Hayes lay in a deep puddle, its crushed body half-submerged. Its limbs were twisted and broken, with bones jutting through torn flesh. Its rib cage and hipbones were flat as a tapeworm. But its head was relatively intact, and it wriggled and squirmed like some monstrous bloody worm. Barely recognizable as human.
“Oh my God,” said Cat, her normally assertive voice anemic as a frightened child’s. She averted her eyes. She’d seen carnage in war, but nothing this grotesque, and here on a sleepy American street it was doubly unnerving.
“Try the radio,” Bronski said. While Cat ran to the vehicle to call for help he ran to the back and grabbed a spare poncho, then draped it over the thing on the road. Lighting a handful of emergency flares he planted them on the road to mark the spot and protect what was left of the man, then climbed into the driver’s seat.
Cat was slumped forward with her head on the dashboard.
“Any luck?”
She sat up and shook her head. “No. No response. I don’t even know if we’re getting through.”
“Shut your door. We have to go,” said Bronski.
“What do you mean, go? We can’t just leave him out there like that.”
“Jesus, Cat, you saw him. What can we do for him, other than send an ambulance?”
Cat didn’t move. The image of the abomination was burned in her brain. The hideous flattened body. The blank staring eyes. The mouth opening and closing, emitting garbled hisses and whines.
“Who could have done that to him… and then left him alone to die in the rain?”
“Cat.” Bronski was firm. “He’s obviously in shock. He’s not feeling anything at this point. We need to go and get an ambulance out here now. Get your head on straight.” He lowered his voice, “If we wait any longer the only thing he’ll need is a shovel.”
Cat leaned out the door and vomited.
“You alright?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, without looking up.
“If we hurry we can have an ambulance back here before those flares burn out.”
“Hold it,” Cat said, grabbing the steering wheel. “I’ll wait here. He shouldn’t be alone.” She turned to hop out but Bronski grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“No way. There’s nothing you can do for him and I’m not leaving you alone out here. You were right. Something is going on down here. And until we know what it is, we better stick together.” He picked up the mike and tried the radio,“Radio check, this is state police unit One Alpha Two Four Seven, does anybody read me? Come in if you copy.”
He repeated the call but again got only static in response.
“Come on, Cat. We have to go get help. There’s nothing we can do here.” Cat finally closed her door. Bronski started driving, speeding around the monstrosity on the road before Cat could steal another look at it. “Here.” He handed her a pack of gum.
Cat popped a few pieces in her mouth and sank back in her seat. “That deputy had to pass by here. He had to have seen—”
“Maybe that’s why he was in such a hurry. He might have been going for help.”
“Why would he go that way? If his radio’s out like ours is, he should have been headed to the hospital. There’s no hospital in Lenape Creek.”
“Good question.” He glanced at Cat. She looked a little shell-shocked. He knew she felt guilty about leaving the injured man on the road and was probably pissed at him for dragging her away.
“Don’t worry. We’ll send help from the hospital,” he said gently. “They’ll be with him in a few minutes. For whatever it’s worth.”
***
Several blocks away, a handful of zombies caught sight of the fiery red flares. They stood staring for nearly a minute, the remains of their brain matter struggling to process what they were seeing… then they gave up trying to think and plodded towards the beckoning light.
34
“Speak up,” the Sheriff snarled. “I can barely understand your goddamned blabbering.”
Deputy Hayes winced and pressed the bandage up under his chin. Every syllable he spoke brought a stab of pain and the fresh taste of blood into his mouth. “I sai… I foun… the… cahr… but the g… gihrl… wathn’t… theah.”
“What the hell, if the car was there she had to be close by. Did you search the entire property?”
Hayes nodded. There was nothing to be gained by being honest. The Sheriff had a disobliging temperament under the best of circumstances. Hayes knew he was capable of anything if provoked.
The Sheriff scowled and his neck flushed red. “We need to find that girl before those nosy state troopers do.”
“May…be… she’th… aw… ready dead.”
“Yeah, and maybe she’s not. We can’t risk that possibility. If she escaped from that cemetery she has to have something on the ball. I zapped her with a hundred thousand volts of electricity and she still managed to get away.”
“What… if she… aw… ready… talked…?”
“If she talked to those troopers… then we really have our work cut out for us.”
“You… can’t… mean…”
“You listen to me, Hayes. Nobody who knows about the cemetery or our involvement in this mess can get back to file a report, do you understand? Right now all hell is breaking loose, but you have to trust that the good Lord will redeem us. A month from now when this nightmare is just a memory, things will return to normal and no one will be the wiser. ‘til then you need to keep your head screwed on straight and do exactly what I say.”
Which is what got us into this mess in the first place, Hayes thought.
Leeds read the glimmer of doubt on his deputy’s face. “This is just more collateral damage, son. And it’s nothing compared to the action I saw in Nam. I went on a dozen search and destroy missions before I was old enough to drink. It’s them or you, you just do what has to be done. So cinch up your balls, cock your weapon, and do your God-given duty. Do you read me, Deputy Hayes?”
“Yes… sir,” Hayes slurred. At this point he was more afraid of Sheriff Leeds than he was of the resurrected. Tell him what he wants to hear. Then get on the road and get the hell out of here. If you get help soon enough, maybe this thing will end… and maybe God will forgive you for ever being a part of it.
“Alright then,” Leeds said. “Grab a rifle. And if you’re in any doubt about whether that girl talked to those troopers or what she might have told them, just assume she did. A stitch in time will save both our asses. Or should I say a snitch in time?”
Hayes dawdled as he unlocked the gun safe to get his assault rifle. This is crazy. He can’t really want me to kill those troopers. An innocent girl is bad enough… but cops?
“Hurry up in there,” the Sheriff commanded, his blood pressure rising with each passing second.
“Sorry…” said Hayes, trying to buy another minute, hoping the Sheriff would head out first so he could make his escape in the other direction. “I need… to fix… my… bandage.”
“Let me see that,” the Sheriff pulled him closer and inspected the bloody mess beneath his chin. “It’s not that bad, stop being a baby. The bleeding’s already stopped.” He jerked his head toward the door.
Hayes reluctantly obeyed, heading o
ut to his cruiser. He started his engine and let it warm up, watching through his rain-drenched window as the Sheriff got into his SUV and its headlights flared on.
“Come on, get out of here,” Hayes muttered under his breath, planning to head north just as soon as the Sheriff went south. But the Sheriff was too wily for him. Instead of leaving, he flashed his brights and waved the deputy out.
Hayes pulled out of the driveway and turned south, with Leeds right on his tail.
Damn it, Hayes thought. Having passed the troopers’ SUV just minutes before, he knew they were headed for a showdown. Headed for a showdown in zombietown.
35
Emma stayed close behind Kerri as they hurried through the woods. They’d finally calmed the girl down and convinced her she’d be safe, assuring her that they had enough ammo in their guns to protect her during the trek to her house. Ryan brought up the rear, Colt revolver in one hand and the policeman’s Glock in the other. They were soaked to the bone with punishingly cold rain, but were too emotionally numb to feel it.
Following a deer trail they emerged fifty feet from Emma’s front yard.
“This way,” Emma pointed.
Kerri led the way but paused almost immediately, taken aback by the strange eel-like thing on the road, wriggling out from under a plastic cocoon like some giant slow-moving larva, lit by a handful of sizzling red flares. It was several feet past Emma’s property, obscured by the pouring rain and the deep puddle it was lying in, but instinctively she knew just what it was.
Taking Emma’s hand she pulled her forward, deliberately keeping her aligned so her own body blocked the girl’s view of the squirming atrocity.
As they drew closer she tried to avoid looking at the wormy abomination with a human head, but like someone driving past an accident, she couldn’t resist a peek. She wondered who might have set up the ring of flares around him and then left him there to suffer. If it was a he. With its crushed body and mutilated face it was impossible to tell.