by Tim Moon
“Two inside the car, one is digging in the trunk,” Ben whispered to Anuhea. “But the infected are close.”
The trunk slammed shut. Zombie groans rang out in an exalted chorus at the presence of fresh meat. The familiar clack of a pump-action shotgun being cocked came just before an ear-splitting boom.
“Hurry, go now,” a woman’s voice shouted.
Then there was another blast from the shotgun. Ben peered over the car and saw the woman walking kitty-corner away from them, luring the horde of zombies away from the car.
Anuhea looked over the car with their rifles raised.
“Don’t shoot,” Ben hissed at Anuhea. “Let her lead them away.”
Another shotgun blast flashed in the darkness, revealing the crowd of infected that was surprisingly close. The blast dropped two bodies, but many more took their place. Infected lurched in her direction, the whole crowd seemed to move as one.
The people in the car began to climb out. Both were young, not even teenagers yet. A boy climbed out from the back seat, looked in the woman’s direction and then back into the car. His eyes widened, and his breath came in short, quick gasps. The infected shuffled past the car and his patience for the girl in the front passenger seat evaporated.
“Mommy!” he yelled. His hands flew to his mouth a moment later as he realized his mistake.
“Hey, over here,” Ben said, waving at the kids. “Climb over.”
The boy saw Ben and Anuhea, screamed and dove back into the car with his sister who had climbed into the back seat. He slammed the door behind him.
“Shit,” Ben muttered.
Several piercing screeches filled the air. Ben ducked down on instinct.
“What the hell was that?” Anuhea asked.
Ben shrugged.
Another shotgun blast went off, but some of the infected had already peeled off and were lurching back towards the car.
“I’ll hold off the infected,” she said. “You get the kids.”
Ben nodded and climbed onto the hood of the car in front of him.
“Let’s go, kids,” he said. They stared at him through the windows like he was an alien. “Come on.”
Their gaze snapped to Anuhea when she stood up and began shooting at the zombies approaching the car. Ben dropped down beside the wrecked car. The headlights were still on; the brightness destroyed his night vision.
“We have to go. It’s not safe here,” Ben said. Frustration seeped into his tone. “Your mom wanted you two to run. Come with us. We have a safe place.”
The fear in the children’s faces was unwavering. Ben took a deep breath to calm down. He tried to smile so he would look non-threatening. As he stepped forward and reached down to open the door, he heard a click. When he pulled on the handle, it was locked. His mouth dropped open and he threw his hands out as if to say, “What the fuck?”
A series of howling screeches punctuated the mounting stress of trying to get the kids to comply. He heard pounding footsteps and heavy breathing. Anuhea began shooting rapidly, the steady rhythm nearly matching his heart rate.
Another screech nearby made Ben look up. Three forms sprinted toward the car.
More survivors?
When the lead runner was just ten feet away it leaped into the air. Its mouth gaped, lips curled back in a snarl, its eyes dark and soulless.
“What the-” Ben started to say before three quick shots slammed into the zombie. Its momentum carried it forward until it hit the rear passenger door on the opposite side of Ben and slid to the ground.
Ben banged a fist against the window, urging the kids to move. “Get out now. Let’s go!”
The boy and girl screamed and stared at the blood and gore-streaked window, frozen in fear.
Ben raised his AR-15 to shoot down a zombie trying to flank him and then smashed the window open with the buttstock. The glass burst and fell in a sparkling cascade that clinked on the ground. He reached inside to unlock the door and free them, but the girl flailed wildly, scratching at him. He struggled to find the damned lock. The girl rolled to the side and began kicking at his arm. He jerked back, but her foot smashed into his hand. A burst of pain shot up his arm. Ben’s grunt was drowned out by the screaming children.
Infected were closing in.
“Get out of the car, you’re not safe here,” he said through gritted teeth. It was useless. The kids were too scared and wouldn’t respond to a stranger.
The girl screamed wildly. Zombies converged on the car even as another shotgun blast went off in the distance. Their mother’s sacrifice wasn’t going to pay off unless the kids moved.
“Ben,” Anuhea shouted. Quick shots snapped off behind him and he spun to see what she needed.
A dark form jumped onto the car barrier and started towards her. Cursing, Ben tried to get a bead on the zombie. It lunged forward. Anuhea blocked it with her rifle and batted aside an arm that shot out towards her face. Both moved too quickly, too close, locked in a struggle that made it impossible for him to take a shot safely. Ben couldn’t believe how fast it was.
He glanced back at the kids, but they were doomed. His gut clenched at the sight of them fighting off zombies who had smashed in from the other side of the car. More were shuffling in his direction.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated as he weighed the terrible options that confronted him. Deep down he knew there was only one real choice though. “Fuck!”
Ben clambered back over the cars to help Anuhea. A shot came from his mom’s house and pinged off a vehicle behind him. Things must look bad if Charlotte felt the need to jump in.
Anuhea shoved the zombie away to try shooting it, but it rushed back too quickly. They toppled over backwards, falling off the cars onto the hard pavement. Luckily, Anuhea’s fall was broken by the infected. She managed to shove the zombie to the side and scramble away from it. Ben sprinted over and kicked it in the side of the head. It fell over, and he shot it twice in the head.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did it bite you?”
Anuhea checked her arms, hands and lower body. She shook her head.
Another one of the quick zombies jumped onto the hood of the car near Ben. He flinched and started to bring his rifle up. He moved too slowly, but Anuhea did not. With a single quick shot, she drilled it through the brain. Its thin frame crumpled onto the vehicle with a loud thump before sliding off to the ground at Ben’s feet.
He stared at the smear of blood on the hood. Close call.
“The kids,” he muttered as he took in the scene behind them.
Dozens of zombies swarmed the car, clawing at the windows, or climbing through the broken ones. The screams had died away and the horde was more than they could handle. They had to back off.
The kids were dead. The headlights were still on, attracting the infected. He would never reach the car to turn them off.
“Shit,” he hissed. Failure burned in his gut like a hot poker.
Ben felt a tug on his arm. He turned and saw Anuhea.
“Come on, there’s nothing we can do for them now,” she said with a grim expression and glistening eyes.
He looked back at the vehicles and shook his head, amazed it had gone to shit so quickly.
“Come on,” Anuhea said again, pulling him away.
Finally, he turned, and they began to jog home. He noticed that the shotgun blasts had ceased too. Had the woman run out of ammo? Or had she faced the same fate as her children?
Nightmarish groans and growls chased them down the block.
69
State College, PA
Moonlight illuminated the street with surprising clarity. Vanessa Koehler clutched a .40 caliber pistol in one hand and a hammer in the other as she followed her friend April down the street. Their footsteps were light and quick, and the swish of their jackets blended into the wind whistling through barren tree branches. They walked single file, several feet apart, without talking.
Weeks had passed since the outbreak of the Necrose vir
us, and Vanessa’s subsequent arrival at April’s house. Mike, April’s husband, was still missing. Vanessa was amazed at her friend’s ability to keep it together. Her faith in Mike’s ability to survive and get home seemed as solid as a mountain.
That is until the bombs dropped.
Vanessa wiped the sweat off her brow and continued to follow April down the street. Her mind was caught in a loop, replaying the horrors she had experienced since that fateful day in October. She sidestepped a patch of ice and scanned for infected. It was their first time out of the house since the bombs.
Vanessa shivered at the memory.
Roughly one week earlier, they had been startled by a massive, ground-shaking explosion. It was the proverbial last straw, which saw April’s tough exterior crack as they bore witness to mushroom clouds rising around them. After seeing the telltale cloud rise from DC, April led them to the roof of the house where they had a 360-degree view. They saw a flash of light as bright as the sun from the direction of Baltimore. By Vanessa’s estimation, nuclear bombs had also struck Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, New York City and possibly Newark, although it was hard to tell. She had surveyed the destruction with a sinking feeling in her gut. Sheer terror had clutched her heart at the evidence of yet another unimaginable tragedy.
April had fallen into a depression for several days afterwards. Vanessa had led them into the basement where they hunkered down to avoid any fallout that might blow their direction. Deep down, Vanessa knew Mike was gone. April seemed to realize it too, but she clung desperately to hope, swinging from sobs to cheerful recounting of fond memories.
The depression and fallout avoidance had drained their resources. Now, they needed supplies. In the early days, right after Vanessa arrived, they had scavenged the neighborhood for food. Vanessa had been surprised by the relative lack of canned and packaged food. The neighborhood was wealthy, which must have accounted for all the rotted produce and meat. It was as if they had collectively decided to avoid preserved and canned foods.
Scavenging had resulted in a meager haul. Vanessa had only found one can of cranberry sauce, some coconut milk, and a small tin of sardines. They were mostly surviving on packaged snacks, some instant rice, and spaghetti. The real treasure was the half-empty case of ramen noodles hidden under a teenager’s bed as if it were a drug stash.
April halted and held her hand up, signaling Vanessa to stop walking. Vanessa’s heart sped up as she quickly searched the darkness for any sign of movement. What had happened? Her lip quivered as Vanessa stepped closer to April, who scowled at her.
Vanessa mouthed, “What?”
Her friend held up her hand and cocked her head to the side, listening. Vanessa didn’t hear anything. A minute later, April waved her hand and they started walking again. Vanessa let out a breath she had been holding.
Vanessa watched and listened for infected while April led the way. Their destination was a neighborhood grocery store where they hoped to enough food to last them through the winter. In her mind, Vanessa could see rows of canned soup, vegetables, and pre-packaged meals of potatoes, noodles or rice. What Vanessa secretly hoped for though was a chocolate bar. Rich dark chocolate preferably. Her mouth began to water at the thought. At this point any chocolate would do though.
Cutting across a front yard, they started down a side street. April led her down a sidewalk with a fence on their left and parked cars between them and the street. It felt too crowded, confined. A creeping sense of dread started to fill Vanessa.
April motioned for them to stop again. Clenching her teeth, Vanessa dropped to a knee beside her friend.
“Why do we keep stopping?” she asked in a whisper.
April held a finger to her lips and then tapped her ear to indicate she heard something.
Soft, rhythmic thumping in the distance cut through a lull in the wind. It sounded like footsteps. Someone running.
That’s not a good sign, Vanessa thought.
There was a screeching sound, and something fell. She heard a moan that quickly cut off.
April began duck walking to the edge of a wood fence to peer around the bushes at the corner. Her pants made a soft swish and snow crunched underfoot. She motioned for Vanessa to follow, which she quickly did. When they reached the corner, they crouched and listened.
Nothing stood out. April peered around the bush. A moment later she shrugged. Vanessa wondered how far she could have seen. Uneasiness fluttered in her chest.
“That’s the store,” April said, turning to point down the block in the opposite direction.
Vanessa could barely make out the building. She started to get up from crouching, her knees ached from the awkward position, but a hand on her arm held her back.
“Wait,” April mouthed silently. She tapped her ear again and pointed to their left, in the opposite direction of the store.
They were at the edge of a wide intersection with rows of short buildings composed of a variety of stores on all sides. It looked familiar in that it looked like parts of any other city in America. Local shops were mixed in next to fast-food chain stores.
The lack of lighting made everything spooky. Moonlight was all they had. Each breath they took registered louder than they really were. Vanessa couldn’t remember ever experiencing such silence. She closed her mouth and tried to take slow, deep breaths.
Suddenly, she heard it. Faint yet distinctively wet, smacking sounds. Her heart trembled at the familiar sound of infected eating a corpse.
The inched forward to gauge the danger they were in. If it was just one, they would be okay. More than two and Vanessa didn’t think it would be worth the risk. Vanessa moved a few steps further out than April. The dark form of a person huddled over something along the curb shocked her.
Vanessa’s muscles tensed for action, every cell in her body screaming for her to run. The infected lifted its head and began to look from left to right with short, twitchy movements of its head. Her heart skipped a beat, but then she realized its back was to them. As they watched, its head snapped to the side and tilted like it was listening for them.
Vanessa squinted at the scene, confused. Infected rarely fed on downed bodies. They preferred fresh meat. She wondered that the noises they heard earlier were. It hadn’t sounded like an attack because it had been too quick. From her experience, most people screamed or called for help as thought fought the infected. All they had heard was the slap of shoes on the pavement.
Vanessa shrugged to herself. Did it matter?
They had two choices: kill the infected or take a detour. If they attacked and drew its attention, the noise might draw more infected to the area. It always happened like that, as if infected had backup lurking nearby just to join a fight. Butterflies swarmed in Vanessa’s stomach.
April nodded towards the zombie. Vanessa bit her lip but returned the nod. April stood and began to rush towards the infected. Slipping her pistol into its holster, Vanessa switched the hammer to her dominant hand, ready to strike. April pulled out a Bowie knife, which looked more like a machete in her tiny hand.
Their shoes slapped against the ground and their jackets swished as they ran. The infected jerked its head around to face them. Moonlight glinted in its dark eyes. A hungry growl rumbled in its chest. Then it did something neither of them expected.
The emaciated man jumped up and sprinted at them.
Vanessa gasped, slowing a little, stunned at the sudden movement. They weren’t supposed to move like that. She heard April curse, but her friend didn’t slow. Her resolve wavered but Vanessa pushed on. April needed her.
The Bowie glinted in the moonlight, and something hit the pavement with a dull splat. She heard liquid splatter on the ground. A hand bounced and rolled to a stop, one of the hands that had attempted to grab April.
The two collided and tumbled to the hard pavement, snarling and thrashing. April had gone primal. Vanessa quaked with fear but rushed forward to help. Terror clenched her heart; the infected man was more ferocious than any she h
ad seen.
The two opponents were a writhing mass of arms and legs. Vanessa tried to grab the infected man’s hand to haul him back. He clawed at April and she missed, only managing to latch onto his shirt. Yanking the shirt with all her adrenaline-fueled strength, the tattered cloth ripped off in her hand. She tossed it aside with a curse and reached for any appendage. Vanessa had to pull him off before he bit April.
Suddenly, the infected was on top, his hand around April’s throat. Her body was twisted halfway around, as if she’d been wrapped around his waist. One of her legs was pinned between his. Vanessa grabbed a leg and pulled. The man slid down, still crushing her throat, but April was able to reach up and pry his hand off. She coughed and gasped for breath.
The infected reared back and that’s when Vanessa struck. Her hammer came across and struck him in the neck. She was thrown off balance by the force of the blow. The ground seemed to uppercut her knee when she fell. The infected jerked its head to the side but continued snapping at April.
Vanessa gaped at the hammer. It had failed. Outraged that the zombie was still attacking her friend she rushed to get up and slipped again, this time falling flat. Cold seeped in through her clothes. Her body ached but April was desperately just trying to breathe. Each breath was ragged and choked with coughing. She couldn’t defend herself. Vanessa had to help.
Where’s the knife? Vanessa thought. She looked around hoping to find it.
Groans echoed in the distance. Other infected had been alerted. The infected man suddenly reared back and screamed; a devilish sound that startled her.
Vanessa lunged forward and swung the hammer again. Her eyes squinted in anticipation of the hand-tingling strike.
It didn’t come. Instead, her momentum threw her off balance and she slipped on the ground, landing hard on her shoulder. A cry of pain escaped her lips.
How was this possible?
Another scream pierced the night, this time it was April’s. Without even seeing it, Vanessa knew it was over. April had been bitten. Rage burned inside her chest. She had failed her friend just as she had failed Steve. Tears stung her eyes.