by Tracy Sharp
The evil that the living do to each other. I’d rather deal with the dead.
“Come on, Hank, before there’s too many to fight off.” We headed to the narrow door of the shack and I gently pushed it open. The deadies from last night were trudging across the river, slowly getting farther away. But it wouldn’t take much to make them turn around.
We moved quietly over the snow, now at least a half foot deep. “We’ll find another place, Hank. Just hang in there.”
The half-submerged snowmobile seemed to be leaning to the right, almost lying on its side, now. Had the dead somehow moved it last night? Had the ice shifted around it?
I looked off into the distance and noticed the shape of an ATV. Hope rose in my chest, but died just as quickly. If this snowmobile had gone through the ice, it wouldn’t take much for the ATV to go through.
But it’s colder now. That snowmobile went under because of that freakish thaw. It would be so much easier to use the ATV. Easier on you, and easier on Hank’s paws. “Come on, boy.”
Hank loped a few feet ahead of me, sniffing the snow and ice beneath as we headed toward the ATV.
He stopped, pawed at the ice, and growled, his ears leaning way back.
I crouched down, using one thick glove to move snow from the spot on the ice Hank was growling at, looking for cracks or weaknesses. I used the arm of my ski jacket to clear more snow. Then, peering at the frozen surface, I searched.
A hand rose up and hit the underside of the ice, clawing at it. I jumped back, my heart in my throat. Adrenaline raced through me as I stared. The hand vanished.
Then a face rose up and pressed itself to the underside of the ice, the mouth yawning open in a silenced shriek. The deadie, another young girl of about eighteen, snapped her teeth at the ice, her dark hair floating around her head and colorless eyes staring at me hungrily. She battered the ice with her hands. I could see the dark ring of abrasions around her wrists where she’d been bound. Her shoulders were bare, her neck bruised.
“Oh, Christ,” I sobbed. Another one. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t take it.
I headed toward the ATV. It would get us out of there quick. But panic was making me reckless, and I wasn’t paying attention to the ice below me.
The wind caught a moan and carried it to us. I spun around, toward the dead. They were heading our way. They’d heard my cry moments ago.
“Oh shit,” I murmured.
They seemed faster than before, lurching and staggering toward us. But then, they had new incentive. A fisherman came through the door of the ice shack, followed by another. And another.
The deadies across the ice came steadily for us, gaining ground. In a few short moments, Hank and I would be surrounded.
Then the ice beneath me shifted and a long, jagged crack opened below the ATV, sucking it into the depths below.
Hank and I ran in the other direction, away from the crack, which was moving quickly toward us. If it caught us, we’d be swallowed down into the frozen river, with no one but the dead moving stiffly and jerkily toward us to prevent us from falling through.
They’d reach for us with their dirty, cold hands and pull us up, just before they ripped us apart.
Chapter 7
Blue sky and soft gray clouds hinted at a peace that was no longer possible in the world below. A world ravaged by an enemy with no compassion for human life. No regard for years of evolution. No hope for the future. And then there were the aliens. The humans who Daphne and Rye encountered were just as bad as the lizards, if not worse. If there ever was a time for humanity to stick together against a common threat, now was the time. But that group of pirates didn’t see Earth struggling with its last breaths. They saw opportunity.
“We can’t trust anyone,” Rye said. He tried to mask the defeat in his voice, but failed.
“I’m sure there are still good people left.”
“You saw those assholes back there. I’m not sure it’s worth the risk to find the good ones.”
“We have to try. This is our house.” Daphne waved her arm, motioning to the world outside of the helicopter. “I’ll be damned if we are going to let unwanted guests run us out of our house.”
“Nice pep talk, Coach Stover. Almost believable.”
“That’s the spirit.” Daphne winked. “How much longer before we have to ditch this thing?”
“We probably have an hour of fuel left. I don’t want to push it, though. We should land pretty soon.”
“You planning on landing this thing on the Hudson?”
“It’s not my first option, but it may be the safest. I like our chances against zombies and aliens on ice.”
“You never know, maybe these lizards are from Hoth. Maybe they’re like Tauntauns.” Daphne shrugged her shoulders.
“More Star Wars references,” Rye said. “If the world wasn’t ending, I’d ask you to dinner.”
“Yeah, well, you left all the chips…and drinks in the van. Good job.”
“Excuse me, but three lizard babies were looking to make us dessert after devouring Sasquatch. My number-one priority was not ending up in the bellies of those things.”
“Worst first date ever,” Daphne said, catching a glimpse of movement below on the frozen river. “Look.”
From the sky, the commotion looked like flecks of aluminum powder creating ragged shapes. One giant Etch-A-Sketch. Two dots went in one direction and a zigzagged line followed. Rye flew a little closer. The picture became clearer. A girl and a dog were being chased by a horde of zombies.
“We have to help them,” Daphne said.
“Not a chance. It could be a trap. She’s a girl. She could be one of those things. And, if so, she can handle her own.”
The dog ran at a pace to stay with the girl. It was obvious by its agitated state, it could go faster, but there was no way it was leaving her. She slipped on the ice and fell to her knees, giving the dead time to catch up. The dog grabbed her sleeve, trying to drag her.
“She’s not an alien,” Daphne said.
The girl stood up; her feet weren’t cooperating. They went in opposite directions. The dog stood by her, providing enough support for her to steady herself. A dead guy lunged for the girl, barely missing her as he fell. His head exploded on the ice.
“There is no way you can be sure,” Rye said. “We are too far away for you to get the jitters about her.”
The dog snapped its jaws at the ankle of a woman who reached for the girl. The zombie tripped, causing three more to tumble over her. It gave the girl enough time to get a safe distance from the dead. The dog ran and caught up to her. In front of them was a group of men who, at one point, looked to be fishermen.
“I don’t have to get shocked to tell she isn’t one of them. Look at the dog. Have you seen any animals since this started?”
The girl turned away from the men. Behind her, the dead were back to their feet and closing in.
“We have to save her,” Daphne said. “Land the damn helicopter.”
The zombies formed a half circle around the girl and dog. The dog snarled and snapped at one, but the girl pulled it back. She waved to the copter.
“Okay, okay,” Rye said, moving in closer.
The sound of the helicopter caused the dead to pause pursuit, giving the girl and dog time to distance themselves.
“What are you doing?” Daphne asked.
“I’m going to land on as many of those bastards as I can.”
Rye hovered above the zombies, herding them into a tight circle.
“But, won’t they—”
The helicopter shook as it made contact. A few of the dead fell prey to the landing skids, but many of them escaped and climbed on the helicopter. A few specks of crimson hit the windows before blood rained down on the ice.
“Climb on this thing?” Daphne said.
“Dumb bastards are attracted to the blades,” Rye said. “Like moths to a flame, baby.”
Body parts bounced and skidded across the froz
en river. Three zombies weren’t interested in the blades. They bit at the windows, trying to get to Daphne and Rye.
“Don’t worry, it’s polycarbonate. They can’t break it.”
The helicopter rocked back and forth. The group of dead led by the fishermen pushed against the tail boom.
“Shit, they are going to turn this over.”
The helicopter slid over the ice, freeing the dead trapped underneath. They joined in pushing the copter.
“Hey, at least it’ll be harder for them to flip now,” Rye said.
“That’s the least of our worries.” Daphne pointed to a crack in the ice.
The dead pushed the helicopter closer to the jagged gap on the icy surface. It wasn’t big enough to swallow the copter, but the weight of the craft would be enough to cause a full break.
“Okay, we have to get out of here, now,” Rye said. “If not, we will drown.”
“How? We don’t stand a chance. There are too many of them. And we have no weapons.”
Rye grabbed a fire extinguisher. He handed it to Daphne, and then took a smaller one from a clip in the cockpit. “We’re going to have to fight our way out. It’s our house, remember?”
The engine sputtered. The blades slowed to a halt.
“Out of gas. It’s now or never,” Rye said.
The helicopter stopped rocking. The dead moved away, back toward the girl, who was yelling and waving her arms. The dog paced and barked, trying to protect her.
“She’s luring them away,” Daphne said.
Rye opened the door. Daphne followed. It took a moment for them to get accustomed to the ice.
“Over here, deadies. This way. Come on,” the girl called out to the dead.
“No, over this way,” Rye said, unleashing nitrogen on a woman dressed as a nurse. He kicked her legs out from under her. When she fell, he planted his foot on the back of her head, smashing it like a watermelon on the ice.
Daphne swung the heavier fire extinguisher, connecting with the head of a man dressed in a suit. The blow caved the side of his face in. He wilted to the frozen surface. Not taking time to admire her work, she ran toward the crack in the ice.
Rye ran behind Daphne. She jumped over the crack, which was about three feet wide.
“Come on, you dead bastards. The special of the day is warm flesh paired with a refreshing glass of blood. Aged to perfection.” Rye jumped over the crack. “I hope this works.”
“They can’t jump.” Daphne slammed the fire extinguisher against the ice to make the gap wider.
The first flood of zombies stepped off the ice and into the water. They immediately sank. The rest tumbled in after them. Several made it to the ledge in front of Daphne. But there was no fear of them making it out of the water anytime soon. She slammed the extinguisher onto their heads as if she were playing Whack-A-Mole.
“Behind you.” The girl’s words ricocheted across the ice.
Four zombies staggered toward Rye and Daphne.
“I’ll get them. Just make sure none make it across the break,” Rye said. He flooded one in the face with nitrogen, and then lowered his shoulder into the zombie, lifting him off the ground. The dead man landed on his back and slid into two others, sending them to the ice. Rye tripped over the leg of one of them, catching himself before hitting the frozen surface. The momentary lack of concentration gave the standing zombie time to grab Rye’s shoulder. He swung around, chomping jaws just inches from his neck. The odor expelled from the dead man smacked several of Rye’s senses. The smell raped his nose, leaving the taste of death simmering in his mouth.
“Rye,” Daphne said. The ice beneath her thinned. Water seeped into her shoes. The dead were beneath her, pushing through the ice. She hopped to the side just as a hand broke through.
“Go,” Rye said, pressing his hand into the side of the dead man’s face. His fingers tore the decaying flesh away, exposing jaw bone. “I’ll catch up.” Another zombie grabbed his ankle. He shook the woman off.
“Stay, Hank,” the girl said, jumping over the water.
She dodged hands as they popped up through the ice. “Over here.”
Holding the extinguisher in front of her, Daphne ran toward the zombie who had a vise-like grip on Rye. She slammed it into his face, creating a sickening shatter. Teeth and bone littered the ice. Two zombies zeroed in on the girl. She ran in a zigzag pattern. The movement was a sure sign that this wasn’t her first encounter with the dead. Rye took the bigger extinguisher from Daphne and chased after the zombies, smashing one of them in the back of the head with the canister. He planted it in the face of the other.
The dog barked at the hands breaking through the ice. Hands turned into arms. Then heads. Then torsos. The dead rose from the water like they were rising from graves.
“Get across, Daphne,” Rye said.
Daphne weaved in and out of the dead as they bobbed in the water. She jumped over the gap. The dog greeted her with a nudge against her calf. The girl jumped next. The dog licked her face as she fell to her knees.
Rye dodged the dead. A hand sprang from the ice, grabbing at his foot. He stumbled and fell head first into the water.
The initial shock of cold paralyzed him. He wanted to move. He needed to. But nothing worked. Chill wrapped around him, squeezing the life from him. Air left his lungs with each tightening grip. Muffled voices just above the surface reassured him that he wasn’t dead…yet. The flesh on his face felt as though it had turned to stone. More voices. Something tugged at his foot. Feeling began to return as the tugging turned to a gnawing. An underwater zombie had latched onto his boot and was trying to tear through the steel toe.
Rye forced his leg to move. He tried to kick, but the cold had stolen his strength. He couldn’t kick off the zombie. There was a splash above him. A hand brushed against his shoulder. He closed his eyes, willing everything he had to reach upward. The zombie pulled downward.
He opened his hand and grasped the arm with both hands. Another arm locked onto his, and then another. His head emerged from the water. The cold air stung, but Rye was thankful for the pain. He was alive.
“Jesus Christ, don’t scare me like that,” Daphne said, pulling Rye onto the ice.
“His leg,” the girl said.
The zombie still had a hold of Rye’s calf and was gnawing at his boot. Daphne planted a swift kick to the dead man’s forehead, freeing Rye. The girl kicked the zombie in the shoulder, sending him back into the water.
“Did it bite you?” Daphne asked, shaking Rye.
Shock filled his throat like a ball of fear. He couldn’t speak.
“Did it bite you?” she asked again, her face urgent.
Rye managed to shake his head.
Daphne grabbed his face. “Death is not an option. Do you understand?”
A slight smile broke across Rye’s face. “Is this still the worst first date ever?”
Daphne cracked a grin. “At least it hasn’t been boring.”
Chapter 8
Another close call, and once again, I was astonished that Hank and I had made it. It had been looking mighty grim for a few minutes. But these two seemed to know what they were doing. “Looks like this wasn’t your first date with deadies.”
“Deadies?”
“That’s what I call them. Makes them seem a little less scary, I guess. I’m Zoe.”
“Deadies? I like that. I’m Daphne and this clumsy guy is Rye.”
Daphne helped Rye to his feet before extending her hand to me. Our shake was the first real human contact I’d had in…well…a long while. I loved giving Hank head rubs. It comforted me, something to keep fighting for in a world that wanted me dead. I needed to be here for Hank. He needed my head rubs. But, still, staring at these two, talking to them, let me know that I wasn’t alone. There was someone to answer when I asked, “Where were you when the world ended?”
“What’s your story?” Rye asked.
I was a little taken aback by the frostiness of the question. Daphne
looked genuinely happy to find another living, breathing human. Rye treated me like I was a third wheel on a first date. But part of me understood the chilliness in his demeanor. There was no room for emotion in this world. No place for trust. And then there was the fact that he was soaking wet in below-freezing temperatures.
“Forgive him. He’s a little standoffish,” Daphne said.
“Sorry. We’ve just seen some bad shit out here,” Rye said. He shivered, causing his words to skip like a radio coming in and out of range. His teeth chattered.
The happiness of saving her friend seemed to wear off of Daphne. She finally realized Rye was freezing to death. She frantically rubbed his arms as if she were trying to start a fire. It only made the shivering worse. “It sure is a lot colder here than in North Carolina.”
There we were, three strangers on the ice. They didn’t need me. But I’d watched them fight off the deadies. They were skilled at killing them. They were fighters. Hank and I needed them. I took off my down jacket and handed it to Daphne. The gesture took her by surprise.
“Keep your jacket. You need to stay warm.”
“I’m tougher than my small body looks,” I said. “He needs it more.”
Daphne smiled and draped the jacket over Rye’s shoulders. She buttoned it, trapping his arms inside like a straightjacket. “Is there anywhere around here to get warm?”
“Just the shanty. But there isn’t much left of it after the unwanted visit from the deadies.”
“Well, we have to get somewhere warmer and find some clothes. How far are we from New York City?”
“A couple hundred miles,” I said. “There should be something over the river, though.”
Daphne wrapped her arms around Rye. “Let’s go then.”
I stood on the other side of Rye and wrapped my arms around him, too. He could walk just fine. This was more of a way to try to keep him warm. I needed the warmth too. The cold air diced my flannel shirt like a sharp knife. Hank brushed against my leg before heading out in front of us as we made our journey across the frozen land.