Pandora: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse

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Pandora: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse Page 13

by McCrohan, Richard


  Jenny’s skin was so pale it almost seemed translucent. Her cheekbones seemed more pronounced and her eyes sunken into her head. And oh, those eyes! The dark purplish skin around them heightened the milky color of the irises.

  Unnerved, she sat on the edge of the tub and rolled up her pant leg. The bite mark looked ugly. The mark itself was bright red, but the skin around it was a dark purple with long dark veins snaking away from it.

  Suddenly overcome, she quickly lifted the toilet lid and vomited violently. When she was done and left gasping, she stood up shakily and, pulling the shower curtain back, stepped into the white tub. She pulled the curtain closed and lay down in the cold tub. I’m so hot, she thought. This tub is nice and cool.

  Two hours later Mariam awoke. She really had to go to the bathroom. As she was about to get up, she saw that Jenny’s bed was empty. Figures, she thought. Waiting a long ten minutes and not being able to hold it any longer, she got up and knocked softly on the bathroom door.

  “Jenny?” She waited then knocked a little harder. “Jenny? You okay?”

  Not hearing any response, she tried the doorknob, which opened easily. Mariam stepped in, not knowing what to expect. The light was on, but no one seemed to be in the room.

  Puzzled, she hesitated, but not being able to wait a second longer, she strode to the toilet bowl and lifted the lid. Luckily she glanced down before sitting and shot back up again. The contents of the bowel were bright red. Strands of something fleshy streaked the sides.

  “What the hell is this?” she gasped.

  Hearing a low guttural sound coming from behind the shower curtain, she unwisely pulled it back.

  The last thing she saw was sharp teeth in a yawning mouth shooting at her throat.

  Sean stretched in bed in next morning. Linda was still asleep, so he quietly got up and relieved himself. He dressed and walked to the door.

  Linda stirred. “You up, Sean?”

  “Yeah, hon. Take your time. I’m just going to have a look outside.”

  Walking out into the fresh morning sun, he saw Mike and Sue walk out of their room.

  “Hey, guys,” he called over.

  “Did you have a good night’s sleep?” asked Sue.

  “You betcha!” exclaimed Sean.

  Malik wandered out of his room. “Jack’s coming,” he said, scratching his belly and yawning. “Staying here was a great idea. Man, did I sleep.”

  Linda walked out, brushing her hair, just as Carol and Naomi exited.

  Jack came out, and they all gathered together and exchanged morning salutations. Everyone felt rested for once. Standing there in the morning sun, with the birds chirping, they almost felt as if nothing bad had ever happened.

  With a big grin, Malik turned to Naomi. “Did you get to use the vibrating bed?”

  She tried to look annoyed but snorted out a laugh. “I’ll vibrate your head.”

  Next to the motel was a large field. At the edge of the wooded border, about a quarter of a mile away, Jack saw several figures emerge. Turning to the group, he said, “I guess we’d better get our shit together and get moving.” He pointed his thumb in the far-off figures’ direction.

  Naomi and Carol went back to get their stuff. Linda and Sue did the same. As Jack walked into his room, Malik started opening up the back hatches. “Who’s going to wake up the sleeping beauties?” he joked to Sean.

  “I guess I will,” Sean replied.

  While the others were busy, Sean walked over to the last door. He knocked and called, “Come on, girls. Daylight is burning.”

  Then he walked back and helped load the cars. As they finished, he walked back to the still-closed door.

  “Mariam, Jenny!” he called, knocking. “Let’s go.”

  As he stood there, arms akimbo, looking at the door, he got a very bad feeling. He went back to the cars, reached in, and came back with one of the shotguns. By now everyone was watching him, looking very worried. As he stood at the door, checking to make sure the shells were in, Malik came over.

  “What’s up?” he said.

  “I don’t know,” remarked Sean. “Jenny wasn’t looking good last night.”

  “I noticed that,” Malik said thoughtfully. “I just thought it was the rough time she’d had.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Sean replied, reaching for the knob and pausing. “You know, I asked her if she’d been bitten, and she told me no. Now I’m not too sure.”

  Sean looked back at Malik and saw that he was holding the Glock at his side. He twisted the knob, and the door clicked open. Pushing it farther open with the barrel of the shotgun, Sean called in, “Mariam? Jenny?”

  He pushed the door open all the way and stepped in. At the foot of the far bed and standing in the morning light was Jenny. In the instant he saw her, he saw the blood down the front of her yellow blouse and her left pant leg rolled up.

  A purplish-black bite mark was on her ankle.

  Jenny curled her top lip and growled at Sean. Malik stepped in, and her milky eyes swung to him. Her snarling increased, and she raised her hands up, bloody fingers curling into deadly claws. She took two jerky steps toward them. Sean raised the shotgun and fired. Jennifer’s head exploded, coating the room behind her with blood and brain matter. Malik stepped forward. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered.

  A low gurgling sound was coming from the bathroom.

  “Mariam?” he called. He looked back at Sean, who just gave him a sad shake of his head.

  A soft shuffling of bare feet on tile sounded, and Mariam appeared at the bathroom door. The gurgling noise was coming from her throat. It was completely ripped out, the end of her larynx sticking out. Every time she made that noise, red bubbles spewed out.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Mariam,” Sean pleaded. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t.”

  Her milky eyes wandered back and forth between Malik and Sean as if she couldn’t make up her mind.

  Malik raised his Glock to her head and, with a wince, shot her in the forehead. She fell backward, bouncing off the sink with a wet clunk, and lay still on the floor.

  Sean and Malik slowly walked out of the motel room. The women all had their hands across their mouths, the men grim looks on their faces, all hoping not to hear the brutal truth.

  When they locked eyes with the two reluctant executioners, Sean and Malik looked down. Sue and Naomi sobbed, while Linda had a stricken look on her face. They all came together and held tightly to one another as Sean explained the cause and outcome.

  The fact that one of their core group had died—and died by their doing a good deed—hit them hard. They knew now that no one was safe.

  23

  As soon as the caravan crossed the Florida state line, they pulled to the side at the next safe spot. Jack called his brother.

  “Hello, Jack?” Tommy said when he answered.

  “Hey, Tommy. It’s me,” Jack replied. “We just crossed the state line. We’re going to drive straight through to you. Nonstop. Are you set for us?”

  “All set, bro,” answered his brother. “When you get to Dad’s place, come to the side entrance by the marina. We’ll let you in.”

  “Good deal.” Jack smiled, relieved. “Look, my cell is just about dead. I don’t even have one bar left. I’ll make my last call ten minutes out.”

  “Roger that, Jack,” Tommy said. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

  Jack turned the phone off and sighed. He knew it wouldn’t be long now. A few hours, and he’d be home.

  The three other men were siphoning gas and filling up. Sean spat out the foul-tasting liquid and started to fill the extra fuel containers.

  “Man,” he said, making a face and spitting again, “my mouth has more gas than my ass does.”

  “Don’t be too sure,” Linda said from the car. “Remember, I sleep with you.”

  They jokingly bantered with one another, volleying choice remarks as they hurriedly worked. When they were finished, they hopped back into their vehicles and were of
f. They hoped this was their final run.

  Tommy disconnected and motioned Private First Class Mario Brutolli over. “Hey, Mario,” he said, as the short, muscular man came running up. “Didn’t you used to know your way around a boat?”

  “Yes, Sarge,” the swarthy young man said. “My pop owned a nice fishing boat down in Seaside. She was a real beauty. Big too. He used to take my brother Jerry and me on her every weekend in the summer. Let me drive it too. Then, in the winter, we used to dry-dock her and fix her up. Why?”

  “You know Jake Fine’s yacht there?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Well, you’re the new first mate.”

  “No shit? The yacht? That rocks!”

  Tommy chuckled. “And Luis Martinez was a shrimper in Texas when he was younger. He’s going to be second mate.”

  “When’s this happening?” asked the very pleased Mario.

  “Right now,” said Tommy. “You’ll work with Jake to make sure everything is shipshape and ready.”

  “We…we’re leaving, Sarge?”

  “I’m not sure,” Tommy answered. “Maybe down the road. Maybe sooner than we think.”

  With that cryptic answer, Tommy went off to find Jake.

  Jake was swimming in his pool. As Tommy came up, he got out. “Just getting in my exercise,” he said.

  Tommy smiled, put his hand on Jake’s shoulder, and told him his plans. When he finished, Jake nodded thoughtfully, fingers stroking his chin, and said, “I think that’s doable. Let me go to the boat and look at my charts. I have a trip to plan.”

  As Tommy walked to check the perimeter, a low-flying helicopter swiftly flew overhead, heading south. He watched the chopper fly toward Fort Lauderdale. That same one had flown over twice yesterday. He imagined someone north of them was as worried about the zombie horde as he was. The helicopter’s coming in low definitely didn’t please him. He was out on patrol the last time it had flown over. The man in the passenger seat even waved at him. What worried Tommy was the reaction of the Zs as the chopper flew in low. They all looked up and reached for it. As the chopper flew away, some even walked in the direction it was traveling, trying to follow it. He didn’t want those idiots leading the whole horde up here. Maybe I should take a little ride south, he thought, get as close as I can, and see what the situation is down there.

  Sean was cursing. As they reached the outskirts of Jacksonville, they had to stop. The entire city was in flames. Skyscrapers and smaller buildings were burning furiously, and I-95 cut right through the middle of the city. They tried to take alternate routes but found them either impassable either due to the tangle of multicar collisions or because they were packed with zombies.

  As they got back on I-95, Sean heard a clunk under his Murano. Looking in the rearview mirror as he passed, he saw a piece of metal in the road.

  “Shit!” he said aloud.

  As they neared the conflagration, Mike pulled over in a wide, clear area, and the other two cars pulled alongside. Sean, Mike, and Jack got out.

  “What do you think?” asked Mike, perplexed.

  “I don’t think we have any damn choice,” replied Sean.

  “We’ll have those tall buildings on each side, dropping burning pieces down on us,” noted Mike.

  “Several cars are already on fire,” Jack added. “We’ll have to try to avoid them all.”

  “We’ll have to chance it,” decided Sean, looking behind him and seeing some zombies making their way toward the cars. “We should leave a little space between the cars.” Jack and Mike looked at him. “If anything drops, it’ll only hit one of us,” Sean explained, “and then if the car is badly damaged, the other two can get the passengers out.”

  Jack and Mike looked at each other and shrugged. “I guess…let’s do it.”

  After the men got back into their vehicles, the trio of SUVs drove into the inferno, maintaining the same formation.

  24

  Master Sergeant Thomas Di Meola was sitting in the shotgun seat of the desert-tan command vehicle. Private Jamal Doakes was driving, and Privates Vincent Pasko and Paul Chen were in the back. Doakes was driving south down Route 1, continually changing streets as either zombies or obstacles impeded their way.

  The helicopter from earlier had already headed back north. Tommy wanted to get as close to downtown Fort Lauderdale as they possibly could. He wasn’t worried about being followed home by Zs. They were going to cut west, then back north, on the return trip. He figured any undead following them would head west and not see them turn north.

  Tommy turned to Jamal. “The Zs are getting a little too numerous,” he said. “Find the tallest building, and let’s get a bird’s-eye view.”

  As they zigzagged through a couple of smaller streets to an insurance building he noticed, Tommy looked up. The helicopter he had seen before was coming back. With it was another copter; there were three men in each.

  “Let’s see if we can get to the roof,” Tommy called out to his men.

  They went into the lobby and ran to the stairs; the building was seven stories high. As they ran up, they heard an explosion. After reaching the door to the roof and finding it locked, Tommy took out his automatic and shot the lock open. By the time they got onto the flat roof and ran to the edge, two more explosions sounded. Standing at the waist-level wall around the perimeter of the roof they saw the two copters hovering about three blocks away. An explosion burst beneath them.

  Taking the binoculars and looking through them, Tommy clearly saw one of the men in the first helicopter take something baton shaped in his hand. Laughing, the man leaned through the open door, lit the object, and dropped it. Following it with the glasses, Tommy saw it fall among a large group of zombies and explode.

  “Those stupid sons of bitches,” Tommy swore. “They’re dropping sticks of dynamite on the Zs!”

  “They’re lucky they don’t blow themselves up,” Jamal exclaimed.

  “What the hell are they trying to do?” asked Tommy.

  Paul Chen looked at them and smirked. “It’s a little bit like redneck fishing, don’t you think, Sarge?”

  They watched as the two copters dropped a couple more sticks down.

  As one copter veered to the other side of the street, the other bird moved next to a corporate office building. There they began again.

  By now, the zombies below were pretty riled up. Between the rotor noise, the explosions, and the birds themselves juking back and forth, the walking dead in the streets were moaning, growling, and trying to reach up to them. The soldiers also observed more zombies pouring in from surrounding streets.

  “Stupid assholes,” Tommy swore quietly.

  He looked up at the corporate building itself; catching some movement, he focused on the roof line, where he saw two figures. They were coming up to the edge. The copter was now only two blocks away from him. After taking the binoculars from his eyes, he found he could still see the figures clearly. He moved his eyes down and saw the helicopter hovering about five stories directly below the two figures. No, he thought.

  Putting the glasses to his eyes again, Tommy watched the two figures (zombies, now that he saw them closer) climb the low wall and, one immediately following the other, jump off. Following them down, he saw them both land directly on the copter’s spinning rotors.

  The bird spun to the side, then turned around ninety degrees. Smoke was pouring from the main rotors when the tail whipped around and struck the building. The facade’s limestone flew in one direction and the tail section the other. The collision also threw the bomber out of the open doorway.

  As he landed in the middle of the mass of undead, the mortally wounded bird spiraled down twice then dropped like a stone. As it hit the street at the base of the building, it exploded in a huge fireball. The enormous explosion shattered windows for two blocks; broken glass fell like knives on the zombies below. The explosion sent pieces of metal, plastic, and zombies in all directions. One jagged metal shard flew and hit the other cop
ter’s engine. Smoke immediately poured from under the cowling. The bird dropped ten feet then turned and started flying back up north. A long black trail of smoke stretched out behind it like a trail of bread crumbs leading home.

  Tommy turned to his men. “We’d better get out of here right now.”

  Paul Chen looked over the edge and moaned, “Oh, shit, Sarge. Look.”

  They looked over and saw the zombies—first just a couple, then more and more—slowly making their way north, following the thick smoke trail. The men peered all the way down the street to the south. Like a wave in a football stadium, the zombies turned and followed each other northward. The horde was moving.

  25

  Jake, Mario, and Luis were aboard Jake’s yacht, My Time. They were making sure everything was ready to go if they had to pick up anchor. Jake and his usual crew always kept everything shipshape. All was spotless, shiny, and mechanically perfect, so there was little to do in that regard. Mario and Luis were loading supplies aboard. Rations, ammunition, water, and firearms—they all were stocked on board. Tommy wanted enough brought on so that there would be enough for them to survive on if they left the area. As he said to the men, if they found they didn’t need it, they could always throw it overboard.

  Private Travis Cassidy was standing guard on the dock. He looked at the boat morosely. A farm boy from Oklahoma, he didn’t want anything to do with boats. Shaking his head, he thought, I’m going to be so freaking seasick.

  Meanwhile the three SUVs were in the middle of the inferno. Mike’s GMC Yukon was doing a stellar job of forcing its way through the obstacles. Burning embers and soot continually fell all around them, and the smoke was starting to increase.

  Jack was driving the last SUV in the motorcade. Keeping a ten-yard distance from Sean’s car, he continued to follow the snaking formation. A burning piece of paper floated down and landed on his windshield before spinning off to the side.

 

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