by Luke Duffy
He turned his head slightly. "You think we should take the truck then?" he asked.
Johnny shook his head and sighed as he lowered his arm. "For a man who knows all about computers, you're not very smart are you? It means, my dear sausage, that there must be people nearby. How else would the engine still be running, and why would it be left just there?"
"Maybe they got a flat and they had to run away?"
"Nope," Johnny said looking down as he stuck out his lower lip and attempted to fold it upward over his thick moustache and toward the tip of his nose. "I reckon whoever was driving the truck is now in the supermarket and that’s why all those ugly bastards are trying to get in." He reached down and picked up a piece of coloured glass then began rubbing it between his fingers. He shrugged shoulders as he studied it, "Well, that’s what I think anyway."
Simon eyed him with respect. He realised that, for all his oddities and his strange appearance, Johnny was much sharper than most people gave him credit for and because his mind had been geared to much more simple matters rather than thinking about 'careers and gadgets' as Johnny referred to them, he was able to see things more clearly.
Simon looked back at the tanker. "You're right, mate; they must be stuck in the supermarket, but why don’t they just go out the back way?"
"Maybe they have," Johnny suggested.
Simon realised that he had seen something else, but his brain had not yet fully processed it. "I don’t think they have."
He suddenly stood upright and edged his way back to the corner. Again, he saw the masses of reanimated corpses clambering against each other at the large windows of the supermarket, but that was not what he was looking for. Then, he saw it.
"There," he hissed back to Johnny. "There's a car parked right up against the windows. Actually, it looks more like a Land Rover shaped zebra."
Johnny took a quick look and then pulled himself back in behind Simon.
"What do you think, then? Should we try and get in there?" Simon asked turning to the short bedraggled and bearded man by his side.
"How do you think we can do that, should we try and walk by them?"
Simon spun on him, "Will you fuck off with this walking dead shit? We don’t have to do that, mate. We can run for the truck and bang on the horn until those things are clear of the shop front. Then, once whoever is in the supermarket gets out and to their Land Rover, we can go with them."
"How do you know they’ll let us? There are some bad people about you know, even some of the ones who are still alive." Johnny looked as though he was talking from experience.
"They’ll probably be thankful that we helped them and that should be enough, I reckon," Simon offered in way of encouragement. "Come on."
Simon grabbed Johnny by the sleeve and stepped out into the open. Suddenly, he felt vulnerable. There were no walls to hide behind now or shield his vision from the hordes of rotting corpses, lingering just metres away. He broke into a trot and Johnny ran at his side. Simon noticed that his friend was unsettled and it was not due to the dead. It was the living that Johnny feared most. He had met Simon through accident and not through choice and it had been forced upon him. Deliberately going out to make new friends was not something he was entirely comfortable with, especially since the dead had begun to walk.
Simon kept his eyes fixed on the large, white tanker ahead of them. He did not want to look at the dead; hearing their moans and lament was enough for him. He could hear the sound of his own pounding heart and heavy breathing echoing in his ears. The sounds of the slapping footfalls of Johnny at his side sounded deafening, as though someone was beating on a drum. They were just metres away from the truck now, the noise of the rumbling engine growing louder in their ears as they drew near.
He had to check on what the dead were doing. The truck was almost within reach and he needed to see the position they were in before he made his next move. Quickly, he glanced to his right and then snapped his head back to the front.
The dead had spotted them as they made their dash from the cover of the building wall. Dozens of individuals had broken away from the rest of the pack and now staggered towards them. Some moved slowly, their decay and injuries hindering their movements as they headed for the two men and the tanker. Others that were less damaged and more mobile, staggered quickly, their feet taking faster steps as the weight of their bodies carried them forward. They reached out ahead of them, their withered hands grasping at the running men, moaning as they recognised the fast moving living flesh that they longed to consume.
"Come on, Johnny, we're nearly there."
Simon forced himself forward the last few metres to the cab of the truck. As Johnny vaulted up and onto the step that led into the passenger's seat, Simon sprinted past the front of the chugging engine and towards the driver's door. He reached up and pulled at the handle. The door swung open and he was met with the sight of Johnny already seated in the cab, staring back at him.
"Hit the horn, Johnny," he shouted up into the truck as he began to climb the step, gripping the steering wheel to help haul him up to the driver's seat.
Johnny leaned across and began banging his fist down in the centre of the steering wheel. The horn blazed and rang in their ears, attracting more of the dead that were still pounding against the supermarket windows.
Simon felt a sudden and heavy tug from behind. Something had latched onto his back as he was almost in the cab of the tanker. The sudden weight dragged him backward out of the vehicle. His eyes widened with terror as he let out a yelp and he tumbled back towards the floor. He desperately grasped at the widening space between him and the steering wheel of the truck as he fell. He could see Johnny still pressing down on the horn but the sound of it became distant in his ears as he tumbled in what seemed like slow motion.
The hands still clutched at his back and he felt the fingers tighten their grasp around him. He landed with a thud and he exhaled loudly as the wind was knocked from him. His head was jolted backward, causing stars to spin in front of his eyes and disorientating him.
Johnny realised what had happened as he heard the scream from Simon. He pulled away from the wheel releasing the blaring horn, and leaned over and out through the door and saw Simon, lying sprawled on the ground staring back up at him in a daze. Beneath him, Johnny saw the flailing corpse of a woman. She writhed and growled as she attempted to free herself from beneath the bulk of Simon.
"Simon, get up, get up now," Johnny bellowed as he reached his hand down to help pull him back into the truck.
Simon shook his head, coming to his senses and reached his arms behind him to help push him back up. His hands pressed down on the cold flesh of the body beneath him and the sudden realisation made him scream with fear and shock. He pushed harder, attempting to get away from the creature and force his body upward to safety.
The woman's cold claw-like hands gripped his shoulders harder, desperate to hold on to him as Simon pushed himself away from her. He could feel the nails and bones of the fingers digging into the flesh beneath his jacket. She snarled from behind him, the sound making him panic and whimper with fright. Her teeth snapped together with a clash then her mouth opened wide, revealing her blackened gums and yellowed teeth. Squirming maggots fell from the corners of her lips and her swollen dark blue tongue slithered from her gaping maw as she pulled down with all her weight.
Simon lost his balance and the weight of the body gripping him forced him back down. Suddenly, he felt the white-hot pain as the teeth bit down onto his shoulder. The agony of it flashed before his eyes like a lightning bolt as the jagged and sharp teeth broke through his skin, creating a popping crunching sound as they punctured the tissue and crushed the flesh between them. He felt the tendons rip and the muscle tear as she clenched her teeth together and pulled her head backward.
Simon screamed.
The pain shot through him and up into his brain, causing him to throw his head back and let out a long blood-curdling howl. The corpse pulled her head aw
ay, tearing the flesh from him. The air hitting the open wound forced him to scream even louder.
He attempted to roll to the side, but the thing clung to his back, refusing to be shaken off. She bit down again, tearing more flesh and muscle from him as he screamed louder and longer. Simon forced his elbow backwards in an attempt to knock her away, but the creature refused to loosen her grip.
He could feel his warm blood flooding over his neck and down his back. It pumped from the wound in his shoulder as his heart raced to maintain the flow of blood around his system. He tried again to break free, screaming and pulling away with all his strength and causing more blood to gush from his wound. Beneath him, he could hear the sound of slurping and grunting as the dead woman, still clinging on tightly to his shoulders, chewed noisily on his flesh.
Johnny jumped from the cab of the truck. He landed at the side of Simon, narrowly avoiding losing his balance and becoming entangled with the two figures on the floor. He grabbed his friend, pulling him hard and trying to break the creature’s grasp on him. He yanked the screaming man to the side and away from his attacker and as he did so, he heard the sound of ripping flesh as the creature bit down on Simon's shoulder again in an attempt to prevent her prey being taken away from her.
Johnny raised his knee, holding on to Simon for support, and stamped down hard at the face of the dead woman. He felt his foot connect with the bone of the skull and the jaw gave way under the impact. The creature lost its hold and fell to the floor as its lower mandible was dislocated, cutting through the thin flesh of its face and exposing its rear teeth through the gaping hole.
He pulled Simon away, his body sagging and becoming limp in his arms.
The wailing and snarling creature tried again to reach out for the flesh of the living man as Johnny dragged him towards the truck. She lunged, narrowly missing their legs and falling forward, face first against the hard tarmac of the car park floor with a sickening thud as the bones in her face were shattered and crushed.
Quickly, Johnny hauled Simon into the cab, pushing him across to the passenger seat while he jumped behind the wheel. Simon slumped in the footwell, clutching his hand tightly over the gaping hole in his shoulder and crying through his clenched teeth. He was pale and beads of sweat poured down his face, mixing with the tears that streamed from his eyes. His body began to shudder as his stomach convulsed and forced bile up through his mouth and nose. He coughed and sputtered uncontrollably as his body was wracked with more spasms.
Johnny threw the truck into gear. He heard the loud hiss as he released the brakes and felt the engine shudder and then lurch them forward. He glanced across at Simon. Rivers of tears streamed down the cheeks of his friend, and Johnny knew they were as much from fear as they were from pain. He watched as the man sank further into the footwell, curling himself into a ball and whimpering as the reality of what had happened, and would happen, sank in.
Beyond Simon, Johnny noticed the wing mirror of the truck sticking out at an angle from the door. He craned his neck in order to see what was behind them as he pushed down on the gear lever and accelerated away. He saw the reflection of dozens of the staggering corpses headed for them. More and more were losing interest in the supermarket and joining the pursuit.
The vehicle gained speed and he aimed it for the exit, stamping down on the accelerator and forcing the heavy truck forward and away from the scene.
Simon needed help, but Johnny did not know what to do, or if there was anything he could do. He did not know where to go. He just wanted to get away and help his friend. Suddenly, he remembered the people in the supermarket. He forced the wheel around to the left, turning the large cumbersome tanker in a wide arc. The tyres screeched and the brakes groaned as he tried desperately to stop the truck from toppling over in the tight turn.
He straightened up and slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a shuddering halt. In front, a sea of shuffling corpses slowly made their way towards them. They filled the entire car park, their moans and cries drowning out the sound of the engine.
Johnny bit down on his lower lip as he brought a hand up to scratch at his overgrown beard. He nodded to himself, and then he began pounding on the horn again.
21
The crowd below was growing by the minute. More of the dead were arriving and joining the ocean of gaunt and rotted faces beneath the steel walkway. They snarled and cried out from within the mass and cold shrivelled hands reached upward, grasping and clutching at the air in frustration as they attempted to reach the living people above them.
The horde was swaying and bobbing like a choppy sea as they bustled and pushed against one another, some being dragged to the ground and trampled as the gap they created was quickly filled by another grey dead face. They stared upward expectantly; their blank lifeless eyes never blinking as they remained fixed on the people above them while swarms of insects circled the air above.
The incessant moans and wails of the dead and the hum and buzz of the flies, mixed in an uninterrupted din. Their sound echoed around in the tightly packed space of the unloading bay as the acoustics of the high reaching walls amplified the voices of the tightly packed dead and channelled it upward to the overhanging ledges that were attached to and jutted out from the roof. With no wind or breeze penetrating the square that was surrounded on three sides by the alcoves of the building, the stench of their rotting flesh lingered in the air, slowly drifting upward and assaulting the senses of anyone that was brave enough to peer down at them.
"Hey ugly," Lee shouted down at the mass of expectant lifeless faces.
The sound of his voice sent a ripple of excitement through the swaying corpses below. He coughed up a lump of phlegm into his throat. He carefully picked his target and took aim. He pulled his head back; holding onto the rail of the walkway to give him more thrust. He threw himself forward again to give the secreted missile more velocity and loosed it into the face of a growling corpse directly below him. The sticky mucous hit the creature on the forehead, running down into its eyes and sending it into state of fury as Lee laughed loudly and pointed.
"What you waiting for? Come and get it," he jeered at it as he leaned over the railing, reaching his hand down to just a metre above its head.
The creature below him, its face the colour of chalk and its teeth almost glowing yellow in contrast to its pale flesh, growled and shook its head as it flexed it jaw, gnashing its teeth together as it attempted to gain a metre in height to reach the warm, fleshy hand that dangled just out of reach above it. It raised its hands, the bones protruding through the tips of the fingers as small cuts and lacerations could not heal and grew in size, swiping at the air between Lee's fingers and its own.
Steve stood looking out over the tightly packed swarm of voracious rotting corpses. He made a rough mental count of their numbers and compared them to what he had last seen at the front of the store.
He leaned back and hollered in the doorway. "How are we looking at the front now?"
John's voice boomed back to him out of the dark interior of the building, "Still no change, Steve. We can’t see anything except hundreds of those fuckers pressed up against the windows. You need to make more noise, I think."
Steve turned to Lee and grinned. "You heard the man, ring the dinner bell."
Lee began dancing about on the steel walkway. It echoed loudly in the bay area, shaking and rattling with each stomp of his feet. He beat the palm of his hand against his open mouth, making noises as though he was a Native American dancing around a fire. He banged against the steel railings with his iron bar, sending vibrations rippling up his arms as the high-pitched noise rang out and echoed in the confines of the loading bay at the back of the store. He was making enough noise to attract every creature for miles around, not just from the front of the supermarket.
"Come on, shit bags," he shouted. "Here I am."
He stopped and began unzipping the fly to his jeans. Steve looked across and realising what his friend was doing; he smiled and
shook his head dismissively.
"They’ll bite it off if you're not careful, mate."
Lee glanced across at him, a vacant look on his face as he strained and concentrated on the job in hand.
"It's okay, Steve, they can't get at it," he gasped between breaths as he forced harder. "I'll not unravel it completely. Anyway, stop watching me; you're giving me stage fright."
Lee let out a sigh and threw his head back as he relieved himself on to the heads of the dead below.
"Oh, I needed that."
Steve watched the long stream of urine as it splashed on to the heads of the bodies below. Some of them looked perplexed as the hot liquid sprayed on to their faces while others went into a frenzy as they felt the hot liquid spatter their decaying flesh, screaming and wailing, whilst shoving and pushing against each other beneath the walkway as Lee continued to hoot and laugh above them.
Lee began tucking himself back in, satisfaction etched on his face as he turned back to Steve and beamed.
"Hey, if we're here long enough, I'll need a dump eventually. That would be worth seeing."
Steve looked down at the urine-soaked faces that glared back up at them. "Nah, mate, I'll pass on that one if you don’t mind."
He looked back at Lee, a serious, more solemn expression on his face. "They used to be people you know."
Lee was busy waving his arms and hollering again. He stopped mid-star jump and turned to look at Steve.
"Yeah, I know, but those people are dead now and whatever those pus bags are down there, they're not people. That’s how I see it anyway."
Steve nodded in agreement, but he still viewed them with pity from time to time when he had the chance to reflect on all that had happened. He was a deep thinker and there were moments when he would look on the dead, studying them as individuals and wonder who had they been and what had they done when they were alive?
Often, he had to stop himself from going too far with his thoughts and dwelling on the fact that the creatures that now roamed the earth were once living individuals with their own thoughts, desires and emotions.